


It Started With a Smile

by jadztone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 2 years after Battle of Hogwarts, Courtship, Draco is finding himself, Ilvermorny, M/M, Neville is an Auror, Past Relationship(s), the whole weasley family, too many other characters to mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-24 01:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12001716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadztone/pseuds/jadztone
Summary: At first Neville is distressed when he sees old nemesis Draco eating lunch in the Leaky Cauldron.  But then Draco smiles at his dining companion, and it's so dazzling that Neville is reduced to gibberish.  Neville learns that Draco has plans to escape his past mistakes and start over somewhere far away.  It's up to Neville to convince Draco to have a little more faith in the wizarding community.





	1. Gibberish

**Author's Note:**

> This started as my entry in the hprarepairnet/slytherdornet March challenge: Love Tropes. I posted six chapters on my tumblr page, dreville.tumblr.com. I'm reposting them here, and adding 4 more chapters that *don't* follow the trope theme. 
> 
> For this first chapter, the trope is Gibberish of Love.  

Neville set down two glasses of butterbeer on the table and took a seat opposite his companion. “I don’t know if you have butterbeer in France, Roselyn, I hope you like it.”

The pretty blonde witch beamed at him.  “I am sure I will, Neville.  Look how frosty it is, certain to be refreshing after a day of walking around. My feet are aching!”

Neville’s smile faltered. “I hope I haven’t worn you out!  I guess I was a little excited to show off London.  Especially Diagon Alley, it’s one of my favorite places.”

“I won’t soon forget Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.”  They both laughed.  Roselyn continued.  “Everyone has been so friendly.  I was a bit worried because of the stereotype about dislike of the French, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Neville smiled. “Well, I’m sure that you being part Veela had a little something to do with it.”

She winked at him. “True, and it is something I am used to. Although you don’t seem to be affected by it.  I know why, of course.  You are not attracted to women.”  Neville reddened slightly.  “I like that it doesn’t work on you.  It’s a nice change of pace.  I can have a conversation without worrying about the gibberish.”

Neville frowned quizzically. “The gibberish?”

Roselyn nodded knowingly. “Yes, the gibberish.  When my Veela charm hits someone so hard that they cannot speak.  Ah-bub-bub-bub-bub!”

Neville couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing at her comical rendition.  “I think I know what you’re referring to.  My friend Ron did that more than once during the Triwizard Tournament.”  

He chuckled at the memory, then took a sip of his butterbeer and glanced around the Leaky Cauldron. He almost did a spittake when he saw who was sitting a few tables away.  “Damn it!” He said it under his breath.  

Roselyn stared at his change of demeanor.  “What is it, Neville?”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing.  I’m just overreacting to an old ghost.”

She looked around. “Oh, you have ghosts in this tavern?”

“Well yes, but I meant figuratively.  A ghost from my past.  There’s a guy a few tables away that went to my school.  He was pretty much the bane of my existence in those days.”  He glanced over again at Draco Malfoy, who was deep in conversation with a woman he didn’t recognize.

Roselyn took a peek in the direction that Neville was looking.  “The one with the hair similar to mine?”  Neville cleared his throat and nodded.  “He’s quite handsome.  Did you two date?”

Neville blinked in shock. “What? No!  We hated each other.  He bullied me constantly.  I don’t…I don’t even know if he’s gay.  Probably not, he’s with a girl.  Let’s just…let’s just pretend he isn’t here.  I don’t want to spoil our nice day.”  Roselyn nodded her agreement and they went back to discussing their tour.

Neville was telling Roselyn about how Platform 9 ¾ worked when, without being conscious of it, his eyes drifted over to Draco again.  Draco was talking animatedly to the girl, his arms waving around.  The girl laughed at something he said, and he broke out into a grin.  Neville, who had picked up his butterbeer for another sip, was so startled that he sloshed liquid onto his sleeve.  Roselyn exclaimed, “Oh!”  

In exasperation, Neville put his glass down and whispered an incantation to clean up the mess.  His wand hand was shaking a bit.  He’d never seen Draco smile like that.  A genuine, warm smile.  At Hogwarts, whenever Draco smiled it always had a cruel edge to it and it always meant trouble.  He risked a glance back over at Draco.  He was still engrossed in the girl, and he was still smiling in amusement.  Roselyn was right, he was handsome.  Without the mask of the bully, he was actually quite arresting.  

Neville was having trouble taking his eyes off Draco and focusing on what Roselyn was telling him. He realized she was no longer saying anything and he tore his gaze away from Draco.  Roselyn was looking at him expectantly.  Damn it, what was it she had asked him?  He thought it was something about Gringotts.  Maybe she asked who ran the bank?  “Godgins.”  

She frowned.  “What?”

“Blodkins. Goblins!  The bank is run by goblins.”  

Roselyn’s expression seemed to indicate that this is not what she had asked.  She giggled.  “Ah, now I see the gibberish coming out.  Except it’s not because of me.  It’s because of him.  Your bully must be part Veela, too.  He does have the hair.”

Neville smiled sheepishly, then glanced over at Draco again.  Still smiling, and now his eyes were twinkling! He was twinkling at this woman! This time Neville was really unable to tear his gaze away.  And then suddenly Draco glanced up, and their eyes locked.  Neville froze.  He wondered if Draco would recognize him.  It’s been a couple of years, and Neville had a beard, now.  He saw confusion on Draco’s face, then recognition. Any moment now, his mouth would settle into that all-too-familiar sneer and Neville could go back to hating him. Except that it didn’t.  Instead, Draco’s expression was troubled, and he looked away.

That was odd.  Neville fully expected Draco to turn nasty as soon as he saw who it was, but such was not the case.  He lost his smile, which was kind of depressing, but no ugliness had emerged.  Neville looked a few more seconds as Draco continued his conversation with his companion, but the smile didn’t reappear.  His face remained impassive and he didn’t glance at Neville again. Neville finally turned back towards Roselyn, who seemed thoroughly amused. “I’m really, really sorry I keep getting distracted.”

She cracked a smile. “It’s okay, being ignored is a novelty experience for me.”  

Neville blushed.  “I’m a crap date, I know.  Maybe we should leave and go somewhere else for dinner?”

She raised one eyebrow. “Running away, are you?  He must really have an effect on you.”

“No, no, of course not. I was just thinking that the Leaky Cauldron has great butterbeer, but their food isn’t very good.  They don’t really try very hard because there’s no competition in this area.”  His voice trailed off a bit because someone had just appeared next to their table. Judging by the black suit and the pale, slender fingers that rested lightly on the table edge, it was Draco.

Steeling himself, Neville slowly trailed his eyes up the suit, absently noting how much Draco was the epitome of the posh boy.  He wondered what Draco’s expression would be.  When Neville got to his face, he saw that his expression was…polite.  “Hello, Longbottom,” he said in a neutral tone.

Now that he’d noticed just how handsome Draco was, having him in such close proximity was unnerving. Neville responded weakly, “Myfey.” Mortified, he cleared his throat. “Malfoy.  Hello.”  Neville waited for him to sneer at messing up his name.  He thought he saw a slight quizzical look, but it was gone in a flash, the polite expression remaining.  

“So, it’s been a long time.” Draco’s voice seemed subdued.

Neville nodded.  “Not..uh..not since Toogarts.”  He clenched his fist under the table.  “Er…Hogwarts, two years ago.”  He saw out of the corner of his eyes, Roselyn trying to suppress a laugh. Draco’s expression turned quizzical again, and stayed that way.  Neville gestured to Roselyn.  “Uh, Draco Malfoy, meet Roselyn Masson.  Roselyn is the Herbology professor at B…” He froze.  He knew he would definitely mess this one up and couldn’t bring himself to say it.  

Roselyn came to his rescue. “Beauxbatons Academy.”  She gave Draco a brilliant smile.  “I was delivering a rare flowering plant to Hogwarts in honor of their completed restoration, and as thanks Mr. Longbottom has been taking me on a tour of London.”

Draco nodded politely at her.  “Welcome to London, Ms. Masson.  Neville…” he turned back to look at Neville, who blinked at being addressed by his first name.  “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you, ever since…that day.”  He swallowed and took a deep breath.  “I wasn’t surprised by Potter’s brave acts of heroism.” There was a hint of cynicism in his tone.  “That seemed to be par for the course every year we were at school.  I was, however, surprised by you.  I mean, I knew you had courage.  I still remember you taking on Crabbe and Goyle at that quidditch match first year.” Here, he gave a ghost of a rueful smile, which made Neville hopeful.  But then it faded again and he became pensive.  “I certainly tried my best to bully that courage out of you.  And I’m sorry for that.  I just wanted to say that it was… incredible what you did at the battle. Facing up against V…all that evil. I was very impressed.  I just wanted you to know that.  Well done, Neville.”  He held out his hand.  Neville stared at it in astonishment.  He took a brief moment to let the praise sink in.  Then he slowly rose to his feet, noticing as he did so that Draco’s eyes trailed up and down him as he stood erect.  Neville supposed he had changed some since school, not just the beard.  

Neville took a deep breath and concentrated on his words.  “Thank you, Draco.  That means a lot, coming from you.”  Whew, he’d gotten them out without messing up.  He took Draco’s hand and shook it, trying to ignore the tiny jolt of electricity that traveled up his arm.  

Draco seemed to freeze for a moment.  But then as he slowly returned the hand shake, his lips curved into a wide smile, genuine and almost sultry.  The twinkling was there, too!  Neville felt like every molecule in his body went on red alert.  “Well,” Draco said, “I guess I’ll see you around then, Neville.”

“Yes!” Neville practically shouted.  Draco looked startled.  “I’d like to see you.  Then.  Around.  Well.”

Draco chuckled, but it wasn’t the same derisive laugh from years past.  It was deep and rumbly and good-humored.  And the twinkling was still there.  “Absolutely, we’ll see each other.”  He finally let go of Neville’s hand and glanced over at Roselyn. “Lovely to meet you, Ms. Masson.” Then he turned and walked away to rejoin his companion, who was waiting by the door that led back to Diagon Alley.  

When Draco had disappeared from sight, Neville sat down with a thud.  “So, give it to me straight.  Just how humiliating was that?”

Roselyn grinned.  “On a scale of lucid to gibberish, I’d say it fell somewhere in ‘barely English’ territory.”  Neville groaned and put his head in his hands.  “I must say, it was very amusing to see such a response directed at someone else for a change.  And don’t worry, it was very charming.”

“It wasn’t charming, I looked like a total git!  I acted like I didn’t have any brains, as if I were trying to prove that he’d been right all those years.”

Roselyn grabbed his hands and patted them soothingly.  “Oh Neville, that was not the case at all.  I saw the look he gave you when you stood up.  He talked of having seen the hero for the first time two years ago. Today he was seeing the man for the first time.  And he liked what he saw.”

Neville shook his head. “He’s not gay.  You saw him with that girl, they were obviously on a date.”

Roselyn tutted.  “I would suggest that maybe he’s bisexual, but I know that’s not the case.  You saw how he barely acknowledged me?  That is not the reaction of someone who likes girls and has just been introduced to a Veela. Non!  He is only interested in men, and he is certainly interested in you.  Now, my advice is to pluck up some of that Gryffindor courage and send an owl to him.  Immediately.”

Neville’s eyes widened. “You think I should send him a note?”

She smirked.  “Oh yes, a handwritten note is your best bet right now. Less chance for gibberish that way.”


	2. Opposites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trope is Opposites Attract.

Draco and Cassandra apparated back at Malfoy Manor, just in time for tea.  Narcissa smiled beatifically at them as they entered the room. “Did you enjoy your excursion to Diagon Alley, dears?”

Cassandra came over and gave Narcissa an air kiss against her cheek.  “I found the most beautiful dress robes at Madam Malkin’s!  I had the shop deliver them directly home so I can take them with me when I go back to Ilvermorny next month.  I’ll be the belle of the Crystal Ball this Christmas.”  She sat down on the settee next to Narcissa and smirked over at Draco.  “Cousin Draco  _particularly_ enjoyed our stop at the Leaky Cauldron.”  He gave her a warning look.  He really didn’t want to talk to his mother about seeing Neville.  

Narcissa’s eyebrows knit together.  “The Leaky Cauldron?  You didn’t spoil your tea, did you?”

Draco came over and kissed his mother on the temple, then sat down in an ornate armchair opposite them. “No, we just had a butterbeer.  I wanted Cass to try one before she goes back home.”

Narcissa wrinkled her nose. “I could never develop a taste for butterbeer, even when I was your age.  Much too sweet.  But I know how much you like your sweets, darling.”  She gazed fondly at Draco.  Then she frowned.  “Wait, weren’t you saying earlier you were going to buy her one at the quidditch match tomorrow night?”

Draco nodded.  “I was, but Cass confessed that she didn’t want to go.”

Cass held up her hands. “I said I’d go to be polite, but I really don’t like sports at all.  I sometimes go to one of Lucas’s games, but it’s really boring.  I always find myself rooting for the seeker to catch the snitch just so it’ll be over.”  Cass gave Draco a sly look.  “If you still want to go to the game, Draco, I have a suggestion of who could take my place.”  

Draco glared daggers at her. She giggled.  He made a disgusted sound.  “You are such a child, Cass!”  

Narcissa folded her arms. “And you are barely out of your teens yourself, Draco.  What’s going on here?”

Cass opened her mouth and Draco shook his head, silently pleading with her to shut up.  “What’s the big deal, Draco?  You said she’s fine that you’re gay, so why can’t you tell her about meeting a really hot boy today?”  She turned to Narcissa, grinning.  “He was gorgeous.  Same age as Draco, but he was so tall and muscly and had a beard.  He reminded me of a lumberjack.”  She sighed dreamily.  “He couldn’t have been more opposite of Draco if he’d been wearing flannel and Doc Martens. I bet that’s why Draco liked him.”

Draco had a sudden image of Neville wearing flannel and felt a roaring in his ears.  He was going to murder his cousin.  Narcissa turned towards Draco, her lips curving into a smile. “Is this true, Draco?  Did you meet someone at the tavern?  Was he…er…hot?”

Draco ran his thumb along the intricately carved handle of his arm chair.  “It doesn’t matter, Mother.  He…well, it’s complicated.  Besides, I know he isn’t gay, so it’s irrelevant.”  Cass snorted.  “It’s true! He was there with some Veela woman, and I could tell she was short-circuiting his brain because he kept talking nonsense.”

Cass shook her head. “No, you were the one affecting him. I could tell that from across the room.”

Draco shrugged. “That’s what I believed at first, but after I thought about it I realized I had to be wrong.  He couldn’t possibly be attracted to me.”

Narcissa gave him a disbelieving look.  “Inconceivable!  You are an extremely handsome young man!”  Draco rolled his eyes.  “I’m not just saying that because I’m your mother!”

Cass burst out laughing. “You are such a mom!  I swear!”  She turned to Draco.  “But she is right, you are totally hot.  I plan to show all my friends your picture when I go back to school, so they can be sick with jealousy that I spent the summer with a pretty British posh boy.”

Usually Draco preened at such praise, but he wasn’t in the mood.  “The reason he can’t be attracted to me is because we already know each other, and he has every good reason to despise me.”  He looked over at his mother and sighed.  “It was Neville Longbottom.”

His mother paled even whiter than usual.  “Oh dear.  _Neville_?  Really?” Draco nodded.  “I see what you mean, then _.  Oh dear_.”

The sympathetic look she gave him was too much for him to bear.  He stood up.  “I’m going to my room.  Sorry about tea, Mother.”  He kissed her temple again, made a face at Cass for her meddling, then practically ran up the stairs to his room.  

Draco headed straight for the window seat and curled up on the cushion that was well worn from years spent contemplating the rolling countryside.  He looked out the window and tried to calm himself by thinking about the hours and hours he’d spent as a child zooming around on his broom.  Up in the air was the only time he ever felt freedom - unburdened by the expectations of his father, his family name, even his Hogwarts house.  As he reminisced, unbidden came a memory of that first flying lesson at Hogwarts.  Neville had been complete rubbish at it from the very first moment, even managing to get himself a broken wrist.  

What was it Cass had said? “He couldn’t have been more opposite of Draco…”  It was so true.  Neville was his complete opposite in so many ways, not just in the way they looked and dressed.  Most notably the houses they’d been in at Hogwarts -  Slytherin and Gryffindor were the most contentious rivals out of all four houses.  Academically, there’d been marked differences in their skills with flying, potions, spell casting (though apparently, Neville improved after being tutored by Potter). Draco always sought to be the center of attention, while Neville preferred to melt into the woodwork.  Draco had adored Professor Snape, while Neville feared him so much that Snape was his boggart.  Or he had been.  Draco wondered what it would be now?  Was Neville scared of anything, anymore?  

At school, Draco’s boggart had been a werewolf.  He remembered that time first year he was given detention in the Forbidden Forest with the Gryffindors.  He’d been afraid of encountering a werewolf, and he tormented Neville to cover his terror. It was ironic that he was taught about how to defeat boggarts by a werewolf.  Although he supposed Lupin wasn’t typical of them.  Fenrir Greyback was more on point.  Draco shuddered at the memories of all the times he’d had to spend in his company.  Greyback hadn’t been a boggart, so riddikulus wouldn’t work on him.  He was a real werewolf and he’d been allowed to roam Draco’s home by his own father.  

Draco had heard rumors that the one who brought down Greyback was none other than Neville Longbottom.  It was why earlier today Draco had been compelled to go talk to Neville, whom he had not laid eyes on since the battle.  He had the deepest of admiration for Neville’s courage.  He’d been such a timid kid, but he always showed bravery when it mattered the most.  Whereas Draco put on a front of bravado, and then ran away when faced with real danger. Opposites.  

It was pretty clear to Draco that whatever attraction he thought he’d seen in Neville’s eyes was not directed at him.  What could Neville possibly see in someone who was not only so completely different, but who had treated him so horribly in school?  It was probably only due to Neville’s gentle nature (another opposite) that he hadn’t told Draco to piss off, like Potter or Weasley would have done if he’d approached them.  Not that Draco would have approached them.  They were showered with plenty of praise from the wizarding public, who seemed to mostly focus on them and ignore Neville’s contribution to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Draco’s eyes had drifted shut, so he didn’t notice that an owl was outside the window until he heard the tapping of its beak.  His eyes snapped open, and he stared in surprise.  He didn’t get many owl deliveries these days.  He cranked open one of the window panes, and the bird perched on the sill, a small scroll tied to its foot.  Draco took the scroll and unfurled it.  It was a note.  He glanced at the bottom to see the signature, and saw that it was from Neville. He felt a sensation like his lungs were tightening.  

“Draco, thank you so much for your kind words earlier today.  There were some things I wanted to say to you too, but I was obviously having a bit of trouble with my words.  I’d like another chance to talk, if you don’t mind?  Maybe we could meet up some time this week, if you’re available? Let me know.  Take care. - Neville.”

Draco’s thoughts swirled in confusion.  His first instinct was that Neville wanted to tell him off, that he regretted being so nice to Draco at the tavern.  But no, that wasn’t like Neville.  Oh, he would give Draco a piece of his mind if he was pushed, he’d done it before.  But he wouldn’t trick him with a kind note. So what could he possibly have to say to him?  It couldn’t be anything positive.  

Draco tapped the scroll against his lips.  What if Cass was right and Neville found him attractive?  Maybe he just wanted to shag him, and  _then_  tell him to piss off.  Draco laughed at the image that brought to his head.  No, Neville didn’t seem like the casual sex type.  Hmm…if that’s true, it would be one trait they shared. The Malfoys tended to have a deeply romantic streak.

Draco wondered why he was even contemplating sending a response.  Given all that had gone through his mind this past hour, it would be absurd to try and start something with Neville.  They had nothing in common, except a history of mutual loathing. Even if…even if by some miracle they actually got along and developed feelings for each other, it wouldn’t last simply because Draco had no future here.

But he couldn’t get out of his head the way Neville had made him feel when they were so close with their hands gripped together.  In that moment, his admiration for Neville had turned to something more visceral. He craved for someone to feel that way about him.  Needed it. Even if it couldn’t last.  Cursing his weakness, Draco went over to his desk and pulled out some parchment.  “As it happens, I have two tickets to the Holyhead Harpies game tomorrow night. Meet me at the entrance at 6 o’clock.  Better not stand me up.”  He chuckled to himself.  Once again, the bravado.  His note was as demanding as Neville’s had been unassuming.  Opposites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note - these first two chapters were pretty short, the chapter sizes grow significantly after this.


	3. Torpedo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trope is Shipping Torpedo

Neville tried not to look at the clock on the wall every five minutes, but only managed to restrain himself from peeking every eight minutes.  Ron kept giving him speculative looks.  The day would have gone by much faster if they’d spent it chasing down dark wizards and witches, but this was one of those rare occasions when they had to spend most of their time doing paperwork.  Harry had worked hard to come up with a plan to overhaul the Auror office, and while he had Kingsley Shacklebolt’s support, the Wizengamot would need convincing.  Harry and Ron and Neville were working on presentations and doing research and basically a lot of stuff that reminded Neville way too much of schoolwork. Hermione would love it.

After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, the clock finally showed that it was 5pm.  As eager as Neville was to shoot out of his chair, Ron and Harry were at the door even faster.  They both had looks of eager anticipation.  Neville trailed after them as they all headed to the elevator.  Harry looked over at Ron.  “So, Hermione is meeting us there?”  

Ron nodded.  “Yeah.  Is Ginny already on the pitch?”

“Yeah, they had to get there early to warm up and practice.  Where’s the rest of the family going to be?”

“Dad wanted to try some muggle tradition called a tailgate party.  Not sure what a tailgate is.  Do you know?”

Harry frowned.  “I think that’s an American thing.  Is he branching into No-Maj rituals now?”  Ron shrugged. As they got on the elevator, Harry looked over at Neville.  “Ginny’s really bummed you couldn’t make it tonight, Neville.  But hopefully you can catch the next game.”

Neville cleared his throat. “Actually, I will be there tonight.”

Ron gave him a quizzical look.  “But I thought you had plans with your Gran.  She wanted to go see that muggle play, Macbeth.  Because she likes the three witches.”

Neville nodded. “Yeah, she thinks it’s funny. We’re going to see it tomorrow night instead.”

Harry shook his head. “Hang on.  When we talked about it a couple weeks ago, you said that you asked her if she’d switch dates so you could go to Ginny’s first game, and she was adamant that it had to be tonight.”

The elevator reached the main level and everyone shuffled off.  They started walking towards the fireplaces.  “Oh, she  _was_  adamant, said she wasn’t going to change her plans so I could run off with friends to a game.”

“Well what changed her mind?”

Neville started walking faster.  “This time I said I had a date to the game.  Courtship is very important to Gran, so she agreed to switch.”

Ron walked faster to catch up.  “You have a date?  Neville, that’s brilliant!  Why didn’t you mention this before?  Is it someone we know?”

Neville walked even faster. “Well, I didn’t want you quizzing me about it all day.  And yes, you do know him.  I figure it’s better if you wait to see who it is at the game.  In a public place like that, you might not do as much shouting. Bye!”  With that, he jumped into a fireplace, which whisked him away in a whoosh of green flames, leaving Ron and Harry to look at each other in bewilderment.  

When Neville apparated at his flat, he showered and changed and had a quick dinner.  He spent the rest of the hour pacing up and down his bedroom.  His friends were probably mystified at his secrecy, but they’d realize why once they saw that his date was Draco.  He knew they would go ballistic.  Especially Ron.  It wasn’t really the ideal circumstance for a first date.  Neville spent a lot of time last night trying to decide if he should turn Draco down for the game and suggest something else.  But the tone of the note, “Better not stand me up,” seemed to imply that this was Neville’s only chance, and any counteroffer would be summarily rejected.  

So he went through the first hurdle of approaching his Gran to switch the date of the play, which turned out to be a piece of cake.  Gran was delighted.  She’d been worried that Neville wasn’t going to ever date again after the Battle of Hogwarts.  She was less enthusiastic about his choice of date, but she trusted his judgment these days much more than she had when he was a child, and he was able to convince her that he knew what he was doing.

So now the second hurdle was going to be his friends.  It was bad luck that Draco chose a game that happened to be right after Ginny Weasley joined the Holyhead Harpies, so of course his closest friends and the whole Weasley family were going to be there.  Neville wondered if they would end up torpedoing this courtship just when it’s been launched.

He wasn’t sure why he was calling it a courtship, it was barely a date.  Except, something in him knew that this was going to be special. He hadn’t felt this attracted to someone in a long time, and he couldn’t ignore that.  He felt…hoped…that Draco wasn’t just interested in a fling.  That wasn’t Neville’s style.  Never had been.  

The time finally came to leave and he was outside the arena at 6 o’clock sharp.  Looking around for Draco, he had a moment of panic where he wondered if this was a trick.  What if Draco would be standing  _him_  up?   Maybe he chose this place because he knew Neville’s friends would be there (Ginny’s selection to the team had been on the sports page of the Daily Prophet after all), setting Neville up for maximum humiliation.  Maybe those smiles he saw were all fake and the praise Draco gave him was a secret joke between him at that girl.  What if he hadn’t changed at all and he was the same terrible bully that Neville had known at Hogwarts?

These thoughts swirled through Neville’s mind, paralyzing him.  Even his lungs felt frozen and he couldn’t breathe for a moment.  Then he finally saw Draco.  He was wending his way through the crowd, resplendent in a black suit.  Of course he was wearing a suit to a quidditch match, it was very Draco.  He was gorgeous.  How had Neville not ever realized that until now?  It was probably for the best, imagine how much more confusing his puberty would have been.

He made his way over to Draco, who spotted him when he was a few feet away.  He looked Neville up and down, and his lips widened into a grin. No, that was not a fake smile.  It was genuine.  Draco was genuine.  Somehow he was changed, and Neville basked in his beautiful transformation.  “Hello, Draco.”

“Hello, Neville.  I see you had the good sense not to stand me up.” Draco chuckled.  “ _And_  you’re wearing a flannel shirt.”  Seeing Neville’s confusion, he shook his head.  “Sorry, it’s just that my cousin was saying that she thought you’d look good in flannel.  And she was right.  You look  _very_  good.”

Neville blushed. “Yeah, I uh…I wear it a lot.  I like how it’s so soft and comfortable.”

Draco raised one eyebrow. “Oh, is it?”  He reached out his hand and rested it on Neville shoulder, then ran it up and down Neville’s arm a couple of times, stopping at his elbow. “You’re right.  It is soft.”  Neville felt goosebumps where Draco had caressed him.  Here was something he’d never known about Draco before - he was an unabashed flirt.    

“No!  No, no, no, no, no!  You’ve got to be kidding me.  Merlin’s Beard, please tell me this is a joke.”  That was the voice of Ron he heard behind him.  And so it begins.  Draco had apparently caught sight of Ron, because he dropped his hand from Neville’s elbow.  Neville already felt bereft of his touch.  

He turned and saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing a few feet away with mouths agape.  Neville heard Draco next to him say, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Golden Trio.  I guess it was too much to hope that you’d catch dragon pox and wouldn’t show up.”

Ron stormed up to them. “Neville, what the bloody hell is going on here?”

Harry came up and put his hand on Ron’s shoulder.  “You need to stop jumping to conclusions, Ron.  Just because they’re standing next to each other doesn’t mean that Malfoy is Neville’s date.  Obviously they just ran into each other.  Right, Neville?” He looked at him expectantly.  

Neville looked him in the eye.  “No, Harry. Draco is my date.”

Ron exploded.  “How could you?  It’s been two years, Neville, and the first person you date after…”

Hermione clutched his arm. “Ron…” she said warningly. Neville knew what Ron had been about to say and he was glad that she stopped him.

Ron took a couple of deep breaths.  “I guess you must be really lonely to go out with this tosser.  But did you even stop to think how it will look for an Auror to be seen with a Death Eater?  The Prophet will have a ruddy field day.”

“I’m not a Death Eater anymore,” ground out Draco through gritted teeth.  

Ron scoffed.  “Oh really?  There’s a dark mark on your arm that says otherwise.  Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.”

Smiling grimly, Draco pushed the sleeve of his jacket up past his elbow, unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt, and peeled it back to expose his lower arm.  “Dark mark?  What dark mark?”

Neville stared at Draco’s arm in horror.  He barely registered hearing a soft choking gasp from Hermione.  Where the dark mark had been, there was now an angry mass of reddened scar tissue.  It contrasted severely with the pale smooth skin on the rest of his arm.  There was something…not right about it.  

Ron exclaimed, “Bloody hell! What did you do to your arm?”

In a trembling voice, Hermione interjected, “How is this possible?  I’ve read up on the dark mark. It’s very old, very dark and powerful magic. It’s said that the mark cannot be removed by any means.  If a wizard even tries it will be a death sentence.”

Draco pulled his sleeves down.  “I did some research myself.  I found out that Riddle learned how to create the mark when he was traveling in China. They have the most ancient magic on earth.  I went there myself and located the wizard who taught him how to make it.  You’re right, typically it’s a death sentence if you try to remove it.  Except that the magic has a loophole.  It can be removed if the person who took the mark didn’t do it out of loyalty to the Dark Lord.  I only took the mark to help my father.  Also, at the time of the removal the wizard can’t have shed innocent blood.  As long as those two caveats are in place, the mark could be removed without proving fatal.”

Harry spoke up, his voice soft.  “It may not have been fatal, but it doesn’t look like it was easy to remove.”

Draco closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, his gray eyes haunted.  “No, it wasn’t.  The old wizard took great pleasure in informing me that the process would be extremely painful, and last for a prolonged period of time.  It was the worst month of my life, but very much worth it. I’m no longer a Death Eater.”  He cleared his throat, and with an effort he schooled his features into one of pleasantness.  Turning to Neville, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two tickets.  “Shall we go inside?”    

“Yes of course.” Neville put his hand on Draco’s back and steered him quickly towards the entrance of the arena, not sparing another glance at his friends.  Once they were inside, they headed up to the box that was listed on the tickets. Draco said, “You go ahead and have a seat, I want to go get some souvenirs to cheer on the team.”  Neville nodded his assent, but as soon as Draco walked away, he felt the loss immediately.

Neville sat down in one of the seats.  The box was half empty, there were still about a dozen empty chairs.  It had a great view.  The best seats in the house.  He recognized a few bigwigs from the Ministry and other wealthy business owners.  It wasn’t surprising that Draco had tickets for such a box.  As he sat there staring down at the pitch, he heard a noise behind him and eagerly turned around.  It was Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  “What are you doing here?”

They walked over.   Harry said, “We have reserved seats for this box.  As soon as I knew this would be Ginny’s first game, I bought tickets for the whole family. They should be here, shortly.” Neville’s heart sank.  It was bad enough they were going to be at the same game, but now it seemed that they were all going to be seated next to each other. Harry cleared his throat.  “So, where’s Draco?”

“He went to get some souvenirs.”

Ron piped up, “Sure he hasn’t ditched you?”  

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.  “Apologize to Neville for your behavior earlier.  You know how difficult it must be for him.”

Ron’s expression was sour. “Look mate, I don’t get this at all, but I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Harry said, “And we promise to behave.  We won’t give Draco any grief while you’re on your date.”  Hermione nodded vigorously, Ron less enthusiastically so.

At that moment, Draco returned.  He looked annoyed to see Neville’s friends there, but covered it quickly with a smile at Neville.  “Here, I bought you a Harpies hat.”

Neville grinned. “Thanks!  I like it!”  He put the hat on.  It let out a squawk like a harpy.  “Did you get one?”

Draco shook his head. “No, I don’t like to mess up my hair.” Ron rolled his eyes at this.  “I got a pennant, instead.”  He held it up and waved it.  The words, “Go Puddlemere!” appeared and little sparks shot off in all directions.  Neville burst out laughing.  

Ron was unable to contain himself.  “You foul git!  You’re rooting for the enemy?”

Draco raised one eyebrow. “Three of the players were in Slytherin, of course I’m rooting for Puddlemere.”

Ron looked like he wanted to say something, but Harry put his arm around him and squeezed his shoulder in warning.  “Ron, it’s a game.  We’re not at war.  Puddlemere’s not the enemy.  You know Oliver Wood plays with them, right?”

Ron grumbled and took his seat.  Harry and Hermione quickly followed.  Draco sat down on the end, next to Neville.  Ron leaned over the railing to look down at the pitch.  “Blimey, Harry, these are really good seats.  Mom and dad are going to love them.”

Harry nodded.  “I got lucky, the box was almost sold out.  The ticket seller said that the Puddlemere/Harpies games always sell out quickly, because they’re such fierce rivals.”

Neville turned to Draco. “How were you able to get these seats last minute?”

Draco shook his head. “Oh, I’ve had them for weeks.  I was originally planning to take my cousin Cass. She was the one at the Leaky Cauldron yesterday.  Cassandra Picquery.”

Hermione leaned over. “You have a cousin named Cassandra? I don’t think I’ve heard of her.  Did she go to Hogwarts?”

“ _Distant_  cousin from America.  She’s going into her seventh year at Ilvermorney.  We invited her to stay at Malfoy Manor for the summer. I bought tickets to the game because her brother Lucas plays quidditch and I thought she’d enjoy it.  Turns out she doesn’t share her brother’s enthusiasm.”

Ron leaned over.  “Hang on, you’re not talking about Lucas Picquery are you?  The one who plays for the American national team?”  Draco nodded.  “He couldn’t possibly be related to you, he’s bloody incredible.”

“You seem to forget that quidditch doesn’t just run in the Weasley and Potter families.  The Malfoys have talent as well.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that you were a seeker after your father bought your way onto the team.  I also seem to recall you quitting the team 6th year.  So much for talent.”

“THAT’S ENOUGH, RON!” Everyone jumped at Neville’s exclamation.  He glared at Ron.  “So much for your promise to behave.”

Ron looked mutinous. “I can’t help it, Neville, he provokes me!”

“Not tonight, he hasn’t! He hasn’t said a single bloody thing tonight that deserves this behavior from you.  Keep it up and I will hex you.”

“Oh come on, Neville, I just don’t want you to get hurt.  He’s no good for you, mate.”

Neville pulled his wand out. Hermione gasped.  “No, don’t!  It’s forbidden to use wands at a sporting event.  You’ll get into so much trouble!”

“Thanks for the reminder, Hermione.  Maybe now Ron will realize I’m dead serious.  Say another word against Draco…”

Ron stood up. Hermione sucked in her breath. “I’m going to go find out where my family is.  Don’t want them to miss the start of the game.”  He stalked out of the box and down the stairs.  

Neville put his wand away and looked over at Draco.  There was an unreadable expression on his face.  “You alright?”

Draco nodded.  “Just trying to decide if I should be annoyed at your recklessness, or ridiculously pleased.”

Neville looked sheepish.  “I’m sorry, I know you can fight your own battles.  I just tend to be very protective.”

“It felt nice to be protected.”  Draco’s smile was almost self-conscious.

The Weasley family arrived then.  To Neville’s relief, they entered from the opposite side of the row, so they wouldn’t be shuffling past him and Draco.  Once they were seated, Molly called over, “Hello, Neville dear.  How are you?”

He nodded.  “I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley.  Thanks.”  She smiled. Her eyes rested momentarily on Draco, but then went back to Neville without saying anything.  The others leaned over and waved - Arthur, Charlie, Bill and Fleur, Percy, and George.  He waved back.  They all turned to watch the start of the game.  Clearly Ron had warned them not to say anything.

Neville looked back at Draco.  “Looks like we’re ready to begin.  Looking forward to it?”

Draco gazed at him, a gleam in his eyes.  “Yes I am.” On impulse, he reached over and took Neville’s hand, lacing their fingers together.  Neville felt warmth invade every part of his body, but especially in his hand.  Maybe this courtship wouldn’t sink just yet.


	4. Second Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trope is Second Love

Draco thoroughly enjoyed the quidditch match.  It was the first time he’d watched one live in years.  It was a very close game in terms of points scored before the snitch was caught.  Oliver Wood was a fine keeper, but Ginny Weasley was a skilled chaser and kept getting quaffles past him.  The Puddlemere chasers weren’t as good as Ginny, but neither was the Harpies keeper, so they made numerous goals of their own.  Throughout the game the two teams were always close to being tied.  This made the seekers extra motivated to find the snitch.  Eventually it was the Harpies’ seeker that caught it, and they won by 160 points.

It helped his enjoyment that none of Neville’s friends said anything to him and kept their focus on the game.  There were a few times when Draco’s frustration at Wood’s failure to block Ginny’s shots on goal made him want to say something scathing about the former Gryffindor captain, but he refrained.  If they were going to behave, so would he.  

Neville was an enthusiastic spectator, and seemed to appreciate Draco’s asides to him about strategies and moves, and other finer points of the game that his experience playing for Slytherin had taught him.  Neville was also good-humored about the fact that Draco was rooting for Puddlemere, so Draco made sure to compliment Ginny’s skills whenever she did something impressive.

They didn’t hold hands the whole time, being too busy cheering and clapping and waving.  But every so often, during a lull, their hands would find their way back to each other.

When the game was over, there was excitement in the air as people stood up to leave, chattering happily about the excellent match.  Draco turned to Neville.  “You want to go somewhere for a drink?”

Neville smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”  They started making their way towards the stairs.  

“Oh, Neville!”  They turned to see Molly Weasley bustling towards them.  “My dear, it was so good to see you again!  It’s been such a long time.”

Neville hugged her. “It has been.  I’ve really missed the warmth and noise of the Burrow.”

“Well dear, if you miss it that much, you are welcome to come on by tonight.  We’re having a celebration of Ginny’s first game with the Harpies, and the more the merrier!”

Neville cleared his throat. “That’s a lovely offer, Mrs. Weasley, but I’ll have to pass.  I’m on a date.”

She smiled warmly at Neville, and then at Draco in turn.  “I’m well aware of that, my dear, and I’m so happy for you.  The invitation also extends to Draco.  As I said, the more the merrier.”  She patted his cheek and then bustled off to join the others. Draco was touched by her graciousness.  

Neville looked down at Draco.  “Ready to go?”  

Draco returned his gaze, wondering what was going through his mind.  There was something odd about the whole dynamic between Neville and the Weasleys.  There’d been things said throughout the evening that didn’t jibe with Neville being just a school chum of their kids.  “Did you want to join the others at the Burrow?  I don’t mind going.  Really.” He did mind, actually.  He wanted to be alone with Neville, and take a break from being around people who hate him.  But given how many times in the past he’s said nasty things about the Weasleys and their home, he was worried that Neville would think he believed he was too good to attend their party.

Neville shrugged. “I’d really like the chance to talk with you alone, someplace quiet.  The Burrow is anything but quiet.  They’ll be partying most of the night, so we could always drop by later if we want.”  

Relieved, Draco gave him a big smile, which he was learning seemed to have quite an effect on Neville. They made their way out of the arena and disapparated.  They settled on the Hopping Pot in London - Draco said it had the best dragon scale brew. Neville said he was partial to the fishy green ale.

As they settled in with their drinks, there was a moment of awkward silence, this being the first time they were in only each other’s company.  Neville cleared his throat.  “You probably noticed how close I was to the Weasleys.”  

Draco shrugged.  “They seemed to be just as close with Potter and Granger.  I didn’t know if that’s because they’re dating Ron and Ginny, or if they’re that way with school friends in general.”

“Well, they’ve always been very warm and open people.  Harry and Hermione spent a lot of time there as kids, when they were all just friends.  But, yeah, when they moved on from friendship to dating, that pretty much cemented their place in the family.”

“And what has cemented your place in the family?”

Neville took a deep breath.  “I was in a relationship with Fred Weasley.”  

Draco blinked. He felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach.  “That was the twin who died, right?”  Neville nodded.   “Wow. Neville, I’m sorry.”

Neville shrugged.  “I know its bad form to talk about past boyfriends on a first date, but I felt like I needed to explain the Weasley connection.”

Draco nodded.  “That’s why Ron flipped out when he saw me?  Of all the people to replace his brother in your life…”

“Yeah, pretty much.  I haven’t been out with anyone since Fred died. Partly out of mourning, and partly because I’ve immersed myself so fully in Auror work.”

Draco felt the odd sensation grow.  Of course Neville would throw himself fully into Auror work.  Death Eaters were responsible for taking away people he loved, not just once but twice.  Once again Draco wondered what the hell Neville could possibly see in him.  Draco took a sip of his dragon scale, and to distract himself from these dark thoughts, he asked Neville how he and Fred got together.

Neville smiled fondly. “It sort of started at the Yule ball. I was there with Ginny, and Fred came up to me at the punch bowl and said, ‘So I heard you’re my sister’s date to this thing.’  I told him not to worry, that I was being the perfect gentleman.  He just laughed and said he wasn’t worried because he knew I was gay.  It took me totally by surprise.  I’d only just figured it out myself.  I’d been suspicious for months that I might be gay, and what clinched it was when the other two schools came to visit.  While Ron and Harry were drooling over the Beauxbatons girls, I kept glancing over at the Durmstrang boys.”

Draco laughed.  He could relate.  He very much remembered the Durmstrang boys.  

Neville continued.  “By the time of the ball, I wasn’t ready to come out yet, so I asked Ginny.  I knew she was a safe bet because she had a huge crush on Harry.  I asked Fred how he knew.  He said he was gay, too, and very observant.  I asked him why he brought Angelina Johnson to the ball, and he said it was to piss off his boyfriend, Cedric Diggory.”

Draco choked on his drink. “Fred Weasley was dating one of the Triwizard champions?”

Neville nodded. “Secretly, though - Cedric was still in the closet.  Cedric asked Cho Chang to the ball, because he knew Harry liked her and wanted to rattle him, and that really hurt Fred.  I remember looking at him in horror as he explained all this and asking him if all relationships were this complicated.  Anyway, Fred and Cedric broke up soon after the ball, because he was tired of the secrets, and Cedric started dating Cho in earnest.  And then six months later Cedric died.  Fred was pretty broken up about it.  The next time we talked was when we ran into each other at Diagon Alley getting our school supplies for the next term.  He bought me a butterbeer and told me all about the plans he and George had for their joke shop.  After that we started dating.”

“So you were together almost…three years?”  Neville nodded.  “Wow, that’s a long time.”

“Yeah, although most of it was long distance.  When we started, it was Fred’s seventh year, and he didn’t even finish it – just went out with George in a blaze of glory.  We didn’t see each other much after that, with me being in school and him and George pouring all their energy into the joke shop and then helping out with the war effort.  I often wished we had tried to spend more time together, but I guess we figured there’d be plenty of chances once Voldemort was defeated.”

Draco swirled the dregs of the dragon scale brew around in his pint glass.  “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.  I read an article in the Prophet about how they got it started, and it really struck me how much in common the twins have with the Slytherins. Resourceful, ambitious, clever.  I thought maybe they were sorted into the wrong house.”

Neville smiled.  “Fred told me once that he and George wondered about that.  They figured that the only reason they weren’t sorted into Slytherin is because the Sorting Hat wouldn’t dare put a Weasley anywhere but Gryffindor.”

Draco drained his glass and set it down.  “You want to go for a walk?  I could use some fresh air.”  Neville nodded and stood up.  When they got outside, it was drizzling.  Draco held up his wand and murmured a shield charm that sprouted up above their heads and surrounded them, giving the illusion to any muggles looking their way that it was an umbrella.  It was better than an umbrella because it kept them dry head to toe, even puddles couldn’t splash them.

“So that was your cousin with you, yesterday.  I was convinced she was your date.”

Draco smirked.  “It was actually my father’s intention that we date.  He keeps hoping I’ll turn out to be bisexual, or at least ignore my urges and dutifully marry to begat an heir.  When he brought Cass back with him from his trip to America, I was really hacked off because it was obvious he considered her the ideal brood mare.  She’s not only pure-blooded, but also has Malfoy blood. With just enough distance on the family tree to avoid the whole inbreeding problem.”  Draco rolled his eyes.  Then he chuckled.  “You should have seen his face when he introduced her.  Cass took one look at me and declared that she was going to have sooo much fun with her gay cousin.”

Neville burst out laughing. “She sounds fantastic.”

“She really is great. Her only flaw is her dislike of quidditch.  But I have to forgive her because if she hadn’t backed out at the last minute, you wouldn’t be here with me right now.”

Neville smiled over at him. They walked quietly for a few moments. “So, um… I can’t help but wonder about who you’ve dated.  No pressure to share, but I am curious.”

Draco’s smile was small, strained.  “It just so happens that it also started with me at the Yule Ball.  It took me awhile to clue in to my sexuality.  I was so busy trying to be the center of attention that I didn’t tend to have things like crushes.  Because then the focus wouldn’t be on me.”  Neville laughed a little too hard at the accuracy of that. Draco wrinkled his nose at him. “That is, until the ball.  When Blaise Zabini showed up looking handsome and dashing in the most stylish dress robes of any boy there, I fell  _hard_.  It was strange to realize that instead of feeling jealous of his good looks and wardrobe and suavity, I just wanted to admire him.  I was also desperate for him to admire me too.  I knew that he’d never been impressed with my antics over the years, and we never moved in the same circle of friends.  After the ball, I made a focused effort to get his attention, but he just ignored me.  He tended to ignore a lot of people.  He was more of a loner that thought he was above everyone.”

The rain stopped and Draco lowered his wand.  “This hopeless crush of mine continued right into the next school year.  Then Umbridge put me on the Inquisitorial Squad.” Neville made a disgusted sound, and Draco grinned.  “One of my finer moments, eh?  I was so full of myself and puffed up with power.  I was sure that Blaise would notice me, now.  I strutted up and down the dungeons with my silly little badge talking about all the havoc I was going to wreak on the school.  Blaise just sat in the corner, reading and ignoring me as usual. I was so furious.  I realized if this didn’t impress him, then apparently nothing would.  I decided to write him off for good, but first I was going to try and get a rise out of him. I marched up to him and said in my snottiest tone, “Hey, Zabini!  Either you go out on a date with me, or I’m docking 50 points from Slytherin in your name.”

Neville gave him an incredulous look.  “What?!”

“Oh I wasn’t serious, of course.  I just wanted to make some sort of ripple in that placid ocean of indifference. Except he lowered his book, looked me up and down, and then shrugged and said, “Okay.  Next Hogsmeade trip, we’ll go together.”

Neville tipped his head back and laughed.  “Mental!”

“It turns out he was interested in me, but Blaise Zabini doesn’t ask people out.  People ask out Blaise Zabini.  After that, we were pretty exclusive for the rest of the year. I was in absolute heaven.  Looking back, I don’t know if he was as into me as I was into him, but at the time I just reveled in the novelty of being on intimate terms with someone who was beautiful, intelligent, self-assured.  I mean, face it - my companions for years were Krabbe and Goyle.  Blaise’s company was far more stimulating.”

They walked on for a few moments.  “So what happened?  Obviously you’re not still with him.”

Draco sighed.  “Things started to cool after my father was sent to Azkaban.  Like most Slytherins, Blaise had a deep prejudice against muggle-borns, and he was very scornful of blood traitors.  But he also had no love for Death Eaters.  He believed that if you have to use unforgivable curses to accomplish what you want, you’re not being very clever.  He said the Dark Lord’s methods were barbaric and beneath him. Yes, Blaise was just that arrogant. When it became apparent that my own father was one of those barbaric Death Eaters, he wasn’t as keen on me.  I think he felt it tarnished his image to be seen with me.  He didn’t break it off, but it was strained.  

During the summer, when the Dark Lord turned his eyes on me and wanted me to take the dark mark, do you know that a part of me actually hesitated?  Here I was standing before the most terrifying wizard I’d ever met, who would absolutely kill me and my parents if I didn’t do his bidding, and I actually hesitated.  Because I knew that if I took the mark, it would be the end of Blaise and me for good. Of course I took the mark, but I dreaded the start of term when I’d see him again.”

They’d arrived at a small park, and Draco leaned against a tree.  “I put it off as long as I could.  I only wore long-sleeved shirts.  I came up with excuses not to take off my shirt when we were in bed together, or I made sure to have the light off.  Eventually I just stopped being intimate with him at all.  He knew something was up and so one night he produced a bottle of fire whiskey and got me so drunk that I couldn’t remember my own name, much less the mark I was hiding.  As soon as my shirt came off and he saw the mark, that was it.  We were over.”  Draco closed his eyes as a breeze picked up and felt the coolness against his cheeks, hot from reliving memories of Blaise’s rejection.  How utterly alone he’d felt the rest of the year as he forced himself to try to fulfill the Dark Lord’s orders.  “One of the reasons I went to China, to try and rid myself of the mark, was the hope that he’d take me back once it was gone.”

Draco was silent a long time.  Neville leaned on the same tree, and reached up to pluck a leaf, twiddling it in his hand. “I take it he turned you down?”

Draco smirked.  “I never told him that it’s gone.  I haven’t seen him.  Don’t want to see him.”  He pivoted slightly to face Neville, his expression severe.  “That month I spent in a hut, going through the ritual to remove the mark, I had nothing to do except eat, sleep, and try to distract myself from the pain.  I coped by thinking long and hard about how I had gotten to this point.  I questioned all my beliefs.  All my father’s beliefs.  All of the Dark Lord’s beliefs.  I was disgusted by what I knew about him.  V…Voldemort,” Draco forced himself to say the name, “was obsessed with blood purity, and yet he himself was a half blood.  His father was a muggle who had cast him off.  That was what it boiled down to - bloody abandonment issues.  All the death and destruction he wreaked and it was because his muggle daddy didn’t love him.  

I felt so much rage over how bloody pointless it was.  And I didn’t just blame him.  I blamed all the other wizards, like my father, who were obsessed with pure blood. Why is it so important to them? It’s been proven time and again that wizards with one or two muggle parents could be just as powerful as any pure blood.  You remember that stupid muggle-born registration thing?  Claiming that muggle-born wizards didn’t really have powers and had just stolen a wand.  Can you imagine them saying that about someone like Hermione?  One of the most talented witches at our school?  Oh, she just stole a wand!  It’s the only explanation for her powers!  It was bloody lunacy.  And as I sat there in that hut with pain pouring over me like lava, I realized that  _of course_  it was insane.  Any ideology born out of feelings of superiority or prejudice is always going to spiral into hate and darkness.  Even Dumbledore learned that lesson with Grindelwald.”  

Draco felt a tightening in his throat as he remembered the agony and the shame he endured as he’d been cleansed of both the mark and his toxic beliefs.   “When the mark was finally gone and I finally left that hut, I no longer wanted to see Blaise.  He acted like he was above all the violence, but his views were still destructive.  I didn’t want to be around that mindset anymore.  I’d been poisoned with this doctrine my whole life, and I was done with it. I was done with Blaise.”

He looked up at Neville, breathing deeply to calm himself.  The park was well lit by lamps, but Neville’s face was in shadow, and Draco wondered what he thought of his little rant.  Without warning, Neville reached out his hands to grip either side of his face, and leaned down to press his lips against Draco’s.  The move had been quick and soft, and despite the suddenness, very welcome.  Draco slipped his own hands around Neville’s waist and pulled him closer.  Neville deepened the kiss, and Draco sighed and felt so at home.  Neville’s left hand curled into Draco’s hair, and he stroked Draco’s cheek with the thumb of his other hand.  The little caress sent shivers up Draco’s spine.  He’d never experienced a kiss like that with Blaise.  It was so  _tender_.

Neville suddenly pulled away.  “I’m sorry!” he said raggedly.  “I should have asked first.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine!  It was beautiful.  Kiss me again.”  Draco put his hands behind Neville’s neck to pull him down.  

Neville put a hand on Draco’s chest to keep space between them.  Softly he said, “I want to, but…”  he looked around, “I have a feeling if we keep snogging we’ll be busted by the muggle police.  Let’s just keep walking so we’re not accused of loitering.”

Draco sighed and nodded his assent.  Neville gave him one last caress with his thumb, took Draco’s hand in his, and then they started walking again.  “Not that I’m even remotely complaining, but what prompted that kiss?”

Neville smiled sheepishly. “It was the same reason that I asked you out in the first place.  This profound change that you’ve undergone…I’m drawn to it.  I wanted to know what brought it about.  In my job, I have to interrogate dark wizards all the time. And as I question them, I find myself looking for glimmers of humanity.  I mean, the really evil ones you know there’s nothing there.  But most are just wizards who were pureblood obsessed.  I could tell that they regretted siding with Voldemort, but disappointingly they still believed in wizard superiority.  In fact with most of them, any remorse they felt was for the wizards who were killed.  They didn’t care about the muggles at all.  It’s demoralizing to see such little hope of decency.  And not just from our prisoners.  We’ve been trying to enact reform at the Ministry of Magic, to wipe away all traces of the Magic is Might dogma.  But we’ve been meeting with resistance from workers who liked the way things were under Minister Thicknesse.  It’s ugliness that I have to witness day after day and it…it gets to me.”  Neville chopped the air with his hand, and then squeezed it into a fist.  “Then I saw you at the Leaky Cauldron, with that smile on your face that was so unlike the Draco I’d known in school, and I just desperately needed to know.  When you explained me just now, about how much you’ve really changed, it was like seeing light for the first time in years.  It gave me hope.”

Neville stopped and turned to Draco.  “You told me yesterday that you were impressed with my courage.  I just want to say, I’m impressed with you, too.  I may have been brave enough to face the enemy without, but you had to face up to the enemy within.  I honestly think that is a much scarier beast.  Well done, Draco.”  He held out his hand, the same way Draco had done the day before.

Draco felt light-headed, as if every bit of oxygen in his lungs had disapparated.  The look of admiration in Neville’s eyes was something that he’d never, ever seen before.  His parents had loved him, sure, but never admired him.  And certainly not Blaise, who’d given him attention, but not regard.  All those years playing the cock of the walk at school and in the end what had worked was humility. Ignoring the hand, he launched forward and put his arms around Neville’s waist, burying his face into Neville’s shoulder and clutching him tight. Neville’s arms encircled Draco’s shoulders drawing him in even tighter, resting his cheek on Draco’s hair.        

Neville had managed in one date to make him feel more cared about and special than the months that he’d been with Blaise.  He didn’t want it to end at all.  But he thought about the plans he’d been making that would surely put an end to it. And he also thought about Fred Weasley, Neville’s lost love.  Sure, Neville may admire Draco now.  It was a novelty for him to see how Draco had changed.  But that sort of thing only sparks an interest, it doesn’t sustain it. How could Draco possibly compare with the memory of a fellow Gryffindor, who was so charismatic and talented?  He knew it was silly to think that he was competing with a ghost, but comparisons would be made - by Neville’s friends, by his family, and ultimately by himself.  Neville hadn’t dated anyone else in the past two years - that said something for just how strong his connection to Fred had been.

Shoving down his insecurities, Draco forced himself to resolve that it didn’t matter if Neville ultimately found him wanting.  He would bask in this new sensation for as long as it lasts.  Or until he leaves England, whichever came first.


	5. You Are Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tropes include: Care Bear Stare, You Are Not Alone, and You Are Better Than You Think You Are.

A lot of unbelievable things have happened to Neville in his life, but standing on the streets of London being hugged very tightly by Draco Malfoy had to be in the top 5.  He took a deep breath, thinking about the look in Draco’s eyes right before he’d launched himself in Neville’s arms.  He’d been overwhelmed by the praise Neville had given him.  Like he’d never had a sincere compliment before.  It made him want nothing more than for Draco to be showered with praise, always.  That he wanted this for a boy that he used to fear and loathe, just went to show how topsy turvy the war had made everything.

Neville took another deep breath, but this time was distracted by the scent of Draco’s hair. He wanted so much to kiss Draco again, but he’d been serious earlier about not wanting to get in trouble with the muggle police.    

Neville glanced around, and saw the Hopping Pot a block down.  He hadn’t been paying attention to where they were going, but they must have doubled back after the park.  He murmured into Draco’s ear.  “Draco? How about I buy you a drink this time.”

Draco pulled away, he could tell reluctantly.  Neville pointed to the pub’s sign.  Draco nodded, his smiled subdued.  They went back inside, and this time they both ordered fire whiskeys.  Draco was very quiet.  Neville wondered if he felt embarrassed by his display of emotion. He tried to think of a topic of conversation.  “You know, it’s interesting that we both felt the first spark of feeling for someone at the Yule Ball.  I wonder why that is.”

Draco’s smile grew a little. “I think for me it was because it felt like we were taking a significant step into adulthood.  Dress robes, dancing.  There is a formality and grace to it.”

“That makes sense.  I really loved the dancing.  I stepped on Ginny’s toes a few times before I got it right. I loved it so much, I didn’t want the night to end.”

“Did you dance with Fred?”

Neville shook his head. “He spent the whole time glaring at Cedric and trying to dance with Angelina in as filthy a manner as he could get away with under Professor McGonagall’s watchful eye.  Looking back, I think his strategy was flawed.  If he’d been dancing with another boy, I think that would have set Cedric off for sure.”

“That makes sense.  A girl isn’t a threat because there’s no interest there.”  Draco paused for a bit.  “I didn’t dance with Blaise either, he still didn’t know I was alive then.  It’s a shame.  Such a romantic setting, and neither of us got to experience actual romance.”

Neville gazed at him. “I’d love to go to a ball with you. I bet you look incredible in dress robes.”

Draco adopted a conceited smirk and ran his fingers through his white blonde hair.  “Well, how do I respond to that without sounding immodest?”

Neville grinned.  “I’m serious.  With your build and your features, you’re the epitome of elegance. Even with your suit off you’d be elegant.”

Draco raised his eyebrows, “With my suit off?  Elegantly naked?”

Neville flushed red. “I…uh…bloody hell.  I meant you’d look elegant even in a t-shirt and jeans.”

Draco snickered.  “I know what you meant.  I just wanted you to picture me naked.”

“It…worked.”  Neville sipped his fire whiskey, trying to regain his composure by thinking about something benign, like plants.  His thoughts fell on the flowering plant that Roselyn had donated to Hogwarts.  This made him remember something he’d shoved to the back of his mind.  “The Restoration Ball!”  He stared over at Draco.  “I’d completely forgotten about it.  It’s in two weeks.”  The Restoration Ball was being held a few weeks before term started as a thank you to all the folks who contributed in some way to getting Hogwarts rebuilt. When he got the invitation, he debated with himself for a few days, but ultimately decided not to go.  He was afraid it would just make him feel even lonelier.

Draco’s expression was inscrutable.  “Ah yes, I’d forgotten about that as well.  I got an invite because we donated money to refurbish the Slytherin dungeons. I threw it in the trash immediately.”

“Because you didn’t have someone you could take?”

“That, and because literally everyone there would hate me.”

Neville frowned. “None of your friends are going to be there?”

Draco gazed at him, sadly. “I thought you might have figured it out when I talked about why I no longer wanted to see Blaise.  You see, my new outlook on life after coming back from China has had a rather drastic effect on my social life.  I’m kind of in a no man’s land right now.  I’ve always been hated by people I was cruel to growing up, which was pretty much any house that wasn’t Slytherin.  I was hated by even more people after becoming a Death Eater. And now, the few friends I had left hate me for being a blood traitor.  Literally the only people on earth who want to have anything to do with me are my parents and Cassandra.  And now you.”  He said the last bit, softly.

Neville felt a constriction in his chest.  “Merlin’s beard, Draco.”  He had to fix this for Draco.  People needed to realize that he’s changed and give him a second chance.  “Why don’t you come to the ball with me.  It’d be a chance for people to see that you’re different now.”  

Draco shook his head. “I don’t think I can face that many unfriendly faces at once.  There’s going to be a  _lot_  of people.  I can deal with something like a quidditch match, where I can ignore everyone but the game and the person with me.  But a ball involves a lot of socializing.”    

Neville worried his lower lip with his finger, thinking for a few moments.  Then he had an idea.  “I know! Let’s go to the Burrow tonight. Spend a couple of hours with my friends and let them get to know the new you.  I already know Harry will meet you halfway, because of how you and your mother helped him.  They’re good people, capable of forgiveness.  Even Ron.  And if you survive tonight, then when we go to the ball, people will see the Weasleys being friendly to you and know that something’s changed.  What do you say?”  Draco looked pensive, and didn’t give him an answer.  “Please, Draco.  I really want to take you to the ball.  And not just because I want to see you in dress robes.  I…I can’t stand the idea of you being isolated.  You need to get back out there in society.  Your transformation has given me hope for healing, and I think it would do the same for others.”

Draco drained the rest of his fire whiskey, then held up his glass for another.  “Neville, there’s something I need to tell you.”  He took a deep breath.  “I’m really touched that you want to mend the rift between me and the wizarding community.  But it doesn’t matter.  Even if people do forgive me, I’m not going to be around for the healing to happen.” He looked up at Neville, something like regret in his eyes.  “I’m going to America.  Cass goes back next week to spend some time with her family, and then in a little over a month, I’ll be joining her.”

Neville stared at Draco in confusion, then his eyes went wide as he thought he understood what Draco was saying.  “You’re not…you’re not actually going to do what your father wants?”

Draco frowned. “What?  You mean marry Cass?  Merlin, no! I meant Ilvermorney.  I’m going to be the apprentice to the Potions Master.” He sighed.  “When Cass came to visit a month ago, I was at the lowest, most lonely point I’d ever been.  She was like a breath of fresh air.  The wizards in America have heard of Voldemort and they knew about the war going on here, but they didn’t pay attention to details.  She had no idea about death eaters or our role in the war or any of it.  I was a completely blank slate to her.  I began to daydream about going to a place where I’d be a blank slate to everyone.

One day we were chatting about our respective schools and our favorite classes.  I mentioned that I’d always had an aptitude for potions.  She said that she didn’t like her potions master, he was too cranky and needed to retire.  His apprentice was much better, but at the end of term last year he suddenly got married and move to California.  They’ve been scrambling to find someone to replace him, but it’s been difficult because the potion master is notoriously hard to get along with.”  Draco drained his second glass of fire whiskey, set it down and pushed it away.  “On impulse, I wrote the school and said I was interested in the post.  They reached out to Professor Slughorn for his opinion of my skills.  Apparently he was reluctant, but consulted Snape’s portrait in the Headmaster’s office and decided to give me a good recommendation.  They gave me the position.  August 27 is when term starts.”  

Neville felt more and more crushed as Draco told his story.  Draco was leaving.  In a matter of weeks he’d be gone.  An entire ocean away.  Neville’s dreams of courtship had been stupid after all.  Draco never had any intention of getting serious with him.  His voice trembling with hurt, he asked “Why did you agree to go out with me if you’re leaving, Draco?  Am I some sort of last hurrah?  Because I’ll tell you right now that I’m not into that.  I don’t do casual flings.”

Draco shook his head, his eyes widening.  “I’m not into that either.  Look, I know I shouldn’t have said yes.  I realized you were someone that could be very special to me, and the timing of this really sucked, so I should have just said no rather than start something that was doomed.  But I couldn’t help myself.  It was the first time in years someone that I was attracted to showed an interest in me and I couldn’t ignore it.  I was worried that if I didn’t go out with you, then I’d go to America unable to stop thinking of you and wondering what might have been.  I reckoned it was better to go out on the date, since it would probably end up a disaster anyway.”

Neville frowned.  “You thought our date would be a disaster?”

Draco shrugged.  “You hated me for years, Neville, and for good reason.  I guess I figured at some point you’d remember it and we’d end up hexing each other right there at the quidditch match.  I’d then go to America with a clear mind.  Except that’s not how it turned out.  Instead we’ve just spent a delightful evening  _not_  hexing each other and now I feel awful because it’s going to come to an end.”

Neville felt better that Draco hadn’t planned to just use him and throw him away, but he still felt cold at the idea of him leaving.  “Does it have to come to an end?  Can’t you just change your mind and not go?”

Draco shook his head. “I’m committed for the school year. I can’t leave them in the lurch without an apprentice.”

Neville’s pulse quickened. “Just for this school year?  What happens after the year is over?”

Draco shrugged.  “It’s meant to be a trial period to see how well I get along with the potions master.  He’s known for being picky and typically goes through several apprentices before he settles on one he likes.  I don’t have a Plan B if the apprenticeship falls apart, but the possibilities are endless. I could stay on in America and figure things out.”  

“Or you could come back to England,” Neville said insistently.

Draco gave him a rueful smile.  “Well, that wasn’t an option I’d considered since I didn’t expect there to be anything to come back to.”  

“But there is now.  Or there will be.”  Neville gave him a determined look.  “I have one month to do whatever it takes to convince you that you  _will_  want to come back to England.  I accept the challenge.”  

Draco stared at him in amazement, and then chuckled.  “You are such a Gryffindor.”

Neville threw down a couple of galleons on the bar and held out his hand.  “Come with me to the Burrow.  We don’t want to waste another second.  A month is a very short time for a courtship.”

Draco blinked at him. “Courtship?  Are you courting me?”

Neville continued to hold out his hand and gazed intently at Draco.  “I am if you want me to.”  With a dazed smile, Draco put his hand in Neville’s, and they immediately disapparated.

They arrived just outside the perimeter of the Burrow.  There were enchantments in place to keep intruders out, but clearly they were expected because they walked down the lane without any resistance.   When they were close to the house, Draco stopped Neville. “Promise me you won’t leave my side? I don’t want to be alone with any of them.”

Neville squeezed his hand. “I promise.”

“Also, I..I’d like you to kiss me again.  No muggle police around now to arrest us for indecency.”

Neville’s lips curved in a smile, and he reached over and grasped the lapels of Draco’s suit jacket and pulled him in.  Neville leaned his head down and captured Draco’s lips with his.  As they kissed, he let go of the lapels and reached up to run his fingers through Draco’s silky soft hair.  Draco made a sound against Neville’s lips and pulled him closer.  Draco was so responsive to him that Neville found himself thinking of what else he would respond to.  But it was too soon for that.  He lifted his head, breaking the kiss.  “I think we better go in, now.”

“Maybe wait just a moment to cool off,” Draco said in a shaky voice.  Neville nodded his agreement.  They both took several deep breaths, and then finally went up to the door and knocked.  It flew open immediately, enchanted to open for visitors that are welcome.  They stepped inside and saw Weasleys scattered around the living room, and spilling over to the dining room and kitchen.  

“Neville?”  He glanced over and saw Ginny bound up to him, grinning ear to ear.  He opened his arms and she gave him a big hug.  “I’m so glad to see you.  I heard you made it to my game.  What did you think?”

“It was brilliant of course. I felt a bit bad for Wood, you were relentless.”  Ginny laughed, her cheeks red.  “Draco was pretty impressed with your strategy.  He was telling me all about it.”

Ginny’s smile faltered and she looked over at Draco.  Neville was apprehensive, knowing that Ginny hated Draco’s father.  Harry told Neville all about Tom Riddle’s diary, and how Lucius was the one responsible.  Ginny nodded politely.  “Draco. I’m glad you enjoyed the game. Even though I heard you were rooting for Puddlemere.”  She folded her arms, lifting her chin.

Draco smiled ruefully. “It’s always been my favorite team. I have to say though, if they were going to lose, at least it was to a worthy opponent.  You really are very talented, I can see why the Harpies snapped you up.  I’m pretty sure they only won because of you.”

Ginny blushed even more. “Well, thank you.”  She dropped her arms to her side.

Draco raised one eyebrow. “I do have to ask you one thing… Given that Oliver Wood used to play with your brother and Harry…I’m wondering, did either of them give you inside tips on how to defeat him?”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open. Oh crap, Neville thought.  What was Draco doing?  Was he going to offend the very first person he encounters at this party?  

But then Ginny burst out laughing, her expression slightly guilty.  “Of course Harry didn’t, he’s much too honorable.  But yeah, George gave me a few pointers.”  She shrugged.

Draco nodded approvingly. “All’s fair in love and quidditch. I would have thought less of you if you didn’t take advantage.”

She shook her head and laughed again.  “Well, if I ever play against any of  _your_  former team mates, can I count on you for some tips?”

“Absolutely.”  Draco grinned.

She nodded slowly, and Neville could see her assessing him.  “Well, have fun you two.”  Then she flitted off.  

Neville breathed a sigh of relief.  “Oh man, I thought we were done for right out the gate.”

Draco linked his arm through Neville’s.  “Sorry, I had to know.  It was bugging me all night.”

Neville suddenly felt a hand clap onto his shoulder.  He looked back and saw it was George, who had his other hand on Draco’s shoulder.  “Hello Neville, Draco.”  George’s tone of voice was dripping with mischief.  “You know, Ron’s been telling me that you’re practically  _married_  to your job as an Auror. And what better way to consummate the marriage then by shagging a death eater.”

Neville tensed and quickly turned around to face George. “He’s not a death eater anymore,” he said earnestly.

George chuckled.  “I know that, you gullible bastard, I’m just having a go.  Ron told me all about the horrible mangled mess on Malfoy’s arm where the dark mark used to be.”  Neville relaxed slightly as George winked at Draco.  “Let’s see it, then.”

Draco, who had looked angry at being called a death eater again, was now bewildered.  “Excuse me?”

“The scar.  I  _have_  to see it.  You know you want to show it off.”  George waggled his eyebrows.

Still looking discombobulated, but now fighting a laugh, Draco pulled his sleeve up.  George’s face was rapturous.  “ _That_  is the most brilliant thing I’ve ever seen.  You’ve completely obliterated it.  Take that, Voldy!  You old pile of ashes!  I can see why Neville’s drawn to you, Draco.  Everyone loves a good scar.  It even worked for Bill.  I sometimes wish I hadn’t grown my ear back.  I could have pulled loads of girls if I’d kept it looking like a gnarled stump.  I mean, hearing is overrated anyway, right?”

Draco laughed, and he stared at George like he wasn’t sure what to make of him.  Neville chuckled, “George’s gallows humor is legendary.  It takes some getting used to.”

George shrugged.  “It’s the quickest way to sort out the boring people. If someone is put off by my jokes, then we’re probably not going to get along.”

Draco cleared his throat. “I..uh, I’m actually glad for it. I’m a bit nervous being here, so it kind of broke the ice for me.”

“Nervous?  Don’t be.  As long as you treat Neville the way he deserves, we won’t have to lock you up with the family ghoul.”

Draco looked up at Neville. “I’m in trouble, then, because I think he deserves way better than me.”  

“Good answer!”  George clapped him on the back hard, causing Draco to stumble a bit.  “I’m gonna get you two drinks.  Your hands have been empty too long and you know how Mother gets if we’re not bombarding our guests with refreshments.  I’ll be back in two flicks of a wand.”  He bounded away towards the kitchen.

Draco blew out his breath. “Well, that was an experience. Was Fred like that?”

Neville nodded.  “Very much.  But they weren’t exactly alike, I could tell the difference.”

“Was it difficult to be around George after Fred died?”

Neville nodded again. “After the funeral, I pretty much avoided the whole family for awhile, except for Ron, of course, since I worked with him.  And it was a long time till I could bring myself to go to Diagon Alley.  I mean, their shop has a giant statue of their likeness.  But eventually it got better.  Time heals all wounds.”

“Well, not all wounds.” They turned at the voice and saw Bill standing there.  He was smiling and pointing towards the scars on his face.  

Neville gave him a hug. Then he introduced Bill to Draco. Draco shook his hand.  “Are you the one who works with dragons?”

Bill shook his head. “No, that’s Charlie.  I didn’t get these from a dragon.  It was a werewolf named Fenrir Greyback.”  Neville saw Draco’s smile fade and all color left his already pale face.  

Draco took a shuddering breath.  “Greyback did that to you?”

Bill nodded.  “You knew him, didn’t you?”

Draco blinked several times, looking ill.  “He spent a lot of time at Malfoy Manor.  But I didn’t get to know him.  Whenever he was around, I bolted myself in my room.”  

Neville felt sick.  “I can’t believe your father let a beast like that into his home, around his son.”

Draco looked away. “I’d say what I did was much worse. I let that beast into Hogwarts.”

Neville exchanged glances with Bill.  He knew that Bill received his scars that same night, defending the astronomy tower. Bill shook his head imperceptibly. He didn’t want Draco to know. Bill cleared his throat.  “Well, that beast was defeated by none other than this young man right here.”  

Draco turned his head back to face them.  “I know,” he said feelingly.  He gazed at Neville, the same way he had the day before when he was praising Neville for his courage.  Neville’s cheeks reddened.  Bill just raised his eyebrows.

George came back with their drinks.  He had Harry with him.  “Blimey, that’s the most ardent look of hero worship I’ve ever seen.  We may need to hose him down.  What brought this on?”

Bill chuckled.  “We were just talking about how Neville defeated Greyback.”

“Oh, that old news.  I thought maybe you’d done something recent. Hey Bill, have you seen what remains of Draco’s dark mark?  It looks revolting.  I almost vomited.  Show him, Draco.”

Draco looked exasperated and Harry laughed.  “Looks like it’s your turn, Malfoy.  I had to put up with everyone staring at my scar for year.”  Draco rolled his eyes and pulled up his sleeve.  

Bill gave an appreciative whistle.  “That looks like it might be worse than the burn mark on Charlie’s leg.  Hey, Charlie.”  Charlie looked up from stuffing a mince pie in his mouth.  He ambled over.  “Show us the burn on your leg.  We’re comparing scars.”  

Charlie chuckled and complied.  “I got this one at the triwizard tournament, when I was trying to wrangle that Ridgeback.” The patch on his leg was definitely almost as red and scarred as Draco’s arm.  “I’m still not sure how Harry escaped without a mark on him.”

Harry shook his head. “Well, it helped that I was running  _away from_ the dragon.”

Molly popped her head out of the kitchen and said that she needed George, Bill, and Charlie to get something out of the attic for her.  They went ambling off and it was just Neville, Harry, and Draco.  Draco turned to Harry and cleared his throat.  “Harry, um…I was wondering if you and I could have lunch some time and talk?  I…I’d really like to know more about my cousin Sirius.  I’ve tried to ask my mother, but she didn’t know him.  Most of the family avoided him out of embarrassment that he was a blood traitor.  But now he’s the only member of my family I have something in common with.”

Harry smiled softly. “I’d be happy to tell you all about him. Although honestly I think you have more in common with Regulus.”

Draco’s face, which had started to brighten, fell in vexation.  “You mean because we were both death eaters?”

Harry quickly shook his head.  “No!  I mean yes, but not just that.  It’s not widely known, but before he died, Regulus renounced his allegiance to Voldemort.  It’s an amazing story and I think you will be pretty proud of your cousin once you hear it.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?  I had no idea.  Yes, I would absolutely love to hear more.”

“How about tomorrow? The Leaky Cauldron?”  Draco nodded and beamed at Harry.  Neville felt an odd prick of jealousy, but squelched it. This was exactly what he wanted.  Healing for Draco.

Neville glanced over and saw Arthur approaching.  He suddenly felt more anxious than ever.  Neville had gotten to know him pretty well since they both worked at the Ministry and sometimes had lunch together.  Arthur was very kind, gentle, even jovial with everyone he met.  But when it came to his family, he did not suffer fools. Given how much they had suffered either directly or indirectly at the hands of both the Malfoys and Blacks, Neville couldn’t say for sure just what Arthur might do.  He didn’t always agree with his wife, so the fact that Molly had included Draco in the invitation to the Burrow didn’t mean that the patriarch would be just as welcoming.

Arthur stopped in front of him and smiled gently.  “Neville, it’s so good to see you here at the Burrow again. Welcome back.”  He reached out for a hug.  Neville embraced him back.  So far so good.

Arthur then turned to Draco and held out his hand.  “Welcome to the Burrow, Draco.  I trust that my children have been pleasant to you, so far?”

Draco smiled tentatively and shook Arthur’s hand.  “Yes, sir.  Everyone is being very kind.”

“Then I take it you haven’t seen Ron, yet.  It may be best to give him a wide berth this evening.  I hear that you spent time in China recently.”  At Draco’s nod, Arthur’s eyebrows knit together in a curious frown.  “I was wondering if you could tell me just what exactly chopsticks are to be used for?”

Draco’s lips twitched again into a smile.  “They’re eating utensils, sir.  Like a fork, but requires a bit more finesse to hold.”

Arthur nodded, fascinated.  “And your parents?  Are they well?”

Draco gave him a stunned look.  “I…I…my parents?”  Looking extremely discomfited, he said, “Forgive me, sir.  I know you’re just trying to make polite conversation with a guest, but I don’t think I can respond pretending that you actually care about the answer.”  He held Arthur’s gaze with as much dignity as he could muster.

Neville tensed.  He couldn’t really blame Draco.  It had seemed that Arthur was going to stick to small talk, but then quickly changed course. He watched as Arthur regarded Draco for a few moments, a small smile playing about his lips.  “I quite understand why you would think so.  Certainly in the past I  _wouldn’t_  have cared if the earth opened up and swallowed Lucius Malfoy whole.  We are complete opposites in every way that matters except one – we are both fathers.”  Arthur blew out a sigh.  “One thing about war, it really reveals our priorities.  And I respected the choice your father made at the Battle of Hogwarts.”

Draco looked away, huffing, “It was too little, too late.”

Arthur’s eyes tinged with sadness.  “Ah.  I think I have my answer, then.  Your parents are  _not_  doing well.”  Draco looked back at Arthur, scowling.  “You see, I know all too much what it’s like to have a son estranged from me.”  He glanced Percy’s way.  “Hopefully someday you will reconcile.”

Draco’s expression was defiant.  “I wouldn’t hold your breath, sir.  I’m not as sure as you seem to be that he really cares about me all that much.  If he did, he wouldn’t be constantly pestering me to continue the Malfoy name.”  Neville could tell that he was striving for control, but it was obvious that the topic of his father was a touchy one.

Arthur smiled bemusedly.  “You’re angry because he wants grandchildren?”

Draco’s lips tightened.  “Sir, you had a gay son.  Surely you understand why that would be a source of contention.”

Arthur nodded contemplatively.  “Fred and I only discussed it once, but I do remember him telling me he wished he could pass the Weasley hair on to his kids.”  Arthur chuckled at the memory.  “I guess it’s fortunate that I’m so fascinated by muggle practices.  I showed him an article in a muggle medical journal about artificial insemination.  They really are quite inventive!”

Draco stared at him in bewilderment.  “Artificial what?”  Neville felt his tension melt away as he tried not to smile.  He knew what this was about.  Fred had told him.

Arthur smiled brightly.  “Insemination.  I bet Hermione knows all about it, her parents are in the medical field.  Oh, Hermione?”    Harry, who had been standing by silently as they talked, put his hand up to his mouth, trying to stifle a grin.  Neville wasn’t sure what was funny.

Hermione looked up from her conversation with Ginny and came over.  “Yes, Mr. Weasley?”

He put his arm around her.  “Your parents are dentists.  Tell me, have they ever performed artificial insemination on a surrogate mother?”  Harry choked with laughter, pressing his hand harder against his mouth, his face turning beet red.

Hermione gaped at Arthur, unable to speak for a moment.  Then she finally managed to say, “Teeth, Mr. Weasley.  I’ve told you before, they only work on teeth.  No other parts of the body.  Just. Teeth.”

Harry no longer tried to contain himself.  He roared with laughter, tears streaming down his face.  Hermione giggled and gave Arthur, who looked befuddled, a kiss on the cheek. Draco was thoroughly confused, and Neville promised to explain later, laughing too hard to attempt it at the moment. Draco rolled his eyes, but grinned in response to the infectious laughter.  Neville started to feel more at ease and hopeful that his plan, to show Draco that he was no longer alone, was going to work.   It was nothing less than what he deserved.


	6. Nobody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope is Nobody Thinks It Will Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter as posted on tumblr was 6k words. I have split this chapter so that a third of it has been shifted to chapter 7. The part related to the trope is still in this chapter.

As soon as Draco and Cass returned from lunch with Harry Potter, Draco went straight for the family photo albums to look up Regulus Black.  Draco was forever grateful to Harry for telling him about Regulus.  For sure he had enjoyed hearing about Sirius. But as Harry predicted, Draco felt an immediate kinship to Regulus.  He’d shown much courage, which he had in common with his Gryffindor brother.  But he’d also demonstrated great cunning in how he had deceived the Dark Lord, which was pure Slytherin.  Draco was bursting with pride.

Draco had asked Cass to come along with him to meet Harry for lunch, feeling too awkward to meet with his former enemy alone.  Cass readily agreed – Americans were just as familiar with the Boy Who Lived as they were with Voldemort.  Draco regretted bringing her when she immediately started gushing at Harry the moment they sat down.  Harry gushed back about her brother, he and Ron being big fans of the American national quidditch team.  Eventually, to Draco’s relief, the subject turned to Sirius, and then to Regulus. Hearing about the two of them went a long way towards making Draco feel he wasn’t the only oddball in the family.  

Draco stared down at a picture of Regulus he’d found, his relative glowering imperiously up at him. He took it out of the album with the intent of putting it up in his room.  He didn’t bother to try and find a picture of Sirius, he knew there wouldn’t be one.  Harry had promised to find him one and send it to him.  He also promised to take Draco to Grimmauld place and introduce him to Kreacher.  Draco was practically vibrating with anticipation.  He never would have thought he’d look forward to meeting a house elf, but he was the only link left to this amazing relative of his and he had so many questions.

Cass looked at the picture over Draco’s shoulder.  “Are you going to tell your parents what you found out about him?”

Draco shook his head. “I don’t want them to ruin this for me.”

“Well, then, I won’t say anything either.  We’ll just pretend we only discussed Sirius.”  She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then ran up to her room.  

Draco smiled at Cass as she left, and made his way to his own room.  He’d been really relieved to learn that, despite being pure-blood, she wasn’t bigoted towards wizards who weren’t.  In fact, she had a huge crush on a muggle-born at her school who apparently didn’t know she was alive.  After this confession, she’d spent the rest of the evening urging Draco to promise not to make good on his threat to slip the boy some amortentia in potions class in the coming term.

Speaking of potions class, Draco decided he should probably spend tonight reading the textbooks that Professor Copple had assigned to him.  He chuckled to himself as he remembered the owl he’d gotten earlier in the week with a long list of books the potions master demanded he read before start of term.  Draco had been indignant that he was being assigned homework, but realized it made sense. He  _is_  supposed to be an apprentice, the point of which is to learn. And it was important to get a good idea of how different potion-making is in America, so he wouldn’t do something foolish when he got there.  

The list had been why Draco went to Diagon Alley with Cass the other day.  While she was dress robes shopping, he’d gone to Flourish and Blotts to get the books.  Since a few of them were American-published, he’d had to place a special order.  They arrived at the Manor while he was out to lunch with Harry.  

Draco went over to his favorite window seat and cracked open the first book.  But after a few minutes he realized he hadn’t read a word.  He kept thinking of Neville, wishing he could be seeing him tonight.  But Neville had promised his grandmother to see the muggle play, having switched the day so he could go with Draco to the quidditch match last night.

Draco leaned his head back and gazed out the window.  Last night had been amazing.  The way Neville had made him feel all night, with his words, his glances, his kisses. Draco still couldn’t get over that Neville had taken him to the Burrow.  The reason he’d done so was incredibly sweet.   Neville wanted Draco to have a second chance.  But what made it all the more amazing was how much Neville must have trusted Draco to take him to see these people who are like a second family to him.  Draco had been so bloody awful to him and his friends at Hogwarts, Neville had no reason to trust that Draco had changed, that he wouldn’t be unpleasant to the Weasleys as he had been in the past.   To his Slytherin way of thinking, such trust was foolish.  Reckless, even.  All Draco had done was smile and give him a compliment, and that was enough for Neville to decide to court him.  Typical Gryffindor playing fast and loose with his heart like that.  And Draco adored him for it.

Courtship.  Blaise had never used such a word with Draco.  He’d barely called what they had done dating. Whenever Draco introduced him as his boyfriend, Blaise would roll his eyes.  He’d smile slightly to soften the impact, but Draco could tell he found such sentimentality beneath him.  Draco imagined what Neville’s reaction would be under similar circumstances.  “This is my boyfriend, Neville.”  Neville would probably smile shyly and give Draco an affectionate glance, squeezing his hand tighter.  Because they would be holding hands.  Always holding hands, like they had last night.  Blaise never liked to hold hands, he complained it made his hand sweaty.  Sometimes he’d let Draco link their arms as they walked, but that wouldn’t always last because Blaise had longer legs and would usually end up striding ahead of Draco.

Draco shoved the book on the floor.  One night with Neville…sweet, chivalrous Neville…and he was now realizing how much had been missing in his relationship with Blaise.  They’d had great times together, and it wasn’t like Blaise was a jerk to him.  He probably did love him in his own way.  He just couldn’t or wouldn’t give Draco the affection and romance that he craved.  Draco wondered if he had some sort of father complex. Lucius was also non-demonstrative. His mother made up for it, but it still hurt that his father never hugged him, or showed concern when he was hurt (like that time he crashed playing quidditch at school).  Draco found himself wondering if Blaise and his father really were that cold, or if somehow Draco didn’t inspire affection because he never lived up to their expectations.  

Draco shook his head. No.  He’d learned last night that it didn’t work that way.  Neville had shown him plenty of affection, and Draco had done nothing to earn it except to show affection in return.  And Draco was quite certain he hadn’t earned the exotic flower that Neville gave him after he kissed him goodbye at the end of the evening. Draco glanced over at it, sitting on his nightstand.  It was white and elegant, and Neville said it reminded him of Draco.

Draco was startled to hear a tapping on his window.  It was an owl.  With a feeling of déjà vu, he wondered if it was Neville’s owl.  He reached his hand towards the window, and then froze - a sudden thought seized him that Neville was cancelling their date for tomorrow night. He’d invited Draco to his flat for dinner, but now maybe he’s had second thoughts.  Draco wondered if one or more of the Weasleys had gotten in touch with Neville today and convinced him not to go through with this courtship.  Draco shook himself out of negative thoughts and cranked open the window.  After all, Harry had kept their lunch date.  So at least one of Neville’s friends was okay with him.  

The owl offered its leg and Draco took the parchment.  He unrolled it and saw that it was from Molly Weasley.

“Dear Draco, we were so pleased that you and Neville could make it to our little celebration last night. It was good to get to know you a bit and Neville seemed really happy with you, which makes us happy.  

I am writing because next week is both Neville and Harry’s birthday – July 31.  They will be 20 years old, and we’ve been planning a surprise party for the two of them.  We’re having all of their friends over and we would love for you to join us.  Just make sure that you don’t let on to Neville. His grandmother will bring him to the party right after they visit his parents – she will pretend like she’s apparating them to her home for cake, but instead it will be to the Burrow.  I’m so excited, I love surprise parties.  Let me know if you can come and I will send you the details. –Molly Weasley”

Draco stared down at the invitation.  Far from his worried prediction, the Weasleys weren’t warning Neville away from him. They were actually inviting him back to the Burrow.  A smile of relief spread across his face.  But then it faded.  All of their friends….so, a much bigger party than the one last night.  And all people who had been at Hogwarts at the same time as Draco, who had known him or at least his reputation.  Panic coiled through him at the thought of so many unfriendly faces.  Not as big an occasion as the Restoration Ball, but certainly a much bigger test of his courage than the Weasleys had been.

He knew Neville would want him to be there, and would see it as another opportunity for reconciliation with his peers.  Draco stood up and paced around the room, ignoring the owl waiting patiently on the window ledge for a reply.  What if it was a disaster, and everyone continued to think he was a foul git even after hearing that he’d repented of his ways?  He couldn’t blame them.  If the roles were reversed, he’d not feel charitable either.  The Weasleys seemed to accept him, but he’d learned last night that they were an extremely kind-hearted family.

Draco took several deep breaths and tried to get perspective.  Okay.  What was the worst that could happen?  Everyone shuns him.  He gets hexed.  Maybe hexes a few back.  Neville would realize he’d been stupid to put his faith in Draco.  The courtship would be over and Draco would continue his plans to go to America permanently.  He would be disappointed.  So disappointed.  But he’d have the memory of a week spent with a beautiful young man.  

Okay, he could do this. He would do this for Neville. Draco exhaled, and with trembling fingers he wrote a response to Mrs. Weasley that he would be there, and wouldn’t give away the surprise to Neville.  Draco watched as the owl flew off, feeling trepidatious, but also proud of himself for his courage.  He looked over at the picture of Regulus that he’d propped up on his nightstand.  He wasn’t sure, but he thought that the figure slightly nodded in approval.

The next afternoon, Draco and Cass were going through his wardrobe trying to figure out what he could wear to dinner at Neville’s flat.  There was one shirt that Cass really wanted him to wear, that he insisted didn’t fit him well anymore.  He wasn’t sure why he still had it.  He’d bought it shortly after coming back from China when he was still gaunt from his ordeal. But he’d filled out some since then and the shirt was now too tight across his chest.  Cass said that was exactly why she liked it.  He laughed involuntarily.  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for a second date, Cass. Especially since we’re spending the whole evening alone.  What would he think?”

Cass rolled her eyes. “You are so old-fashioned!”

Draco smiled warmly. “Yes, I am.  And so is he.”  He started to throw the shirt in the bin, but then hesitated.  Well…there may come a time…  He hung it back up.  As he was reaching for another shirt, he heard a tap on the window.  For once he wasn’t startled.  He’d been getting more and more owls.  There had been a reply last night from Mrs. Weasley with details about the birthday party.  There’d been another from Professor Copple with a list of ingredients he wanted Draco to bring with him to Ilvermorny.  He’d explained in the note that he was curious to try some potions that he normally couldn’t make because the ingredients were not generally available in America.  He’d also gotten an owl from Harry earlier with a suggested time next week that they could go to Grimmauld place.  

Draco wondered who it could be this time, and when he opened the window he saw it was Neville’s owl. He eagerly unfurled the parchment. Disappointment coursed through him as he read the words.  Cass saw the expression on his face.  “Draco, what’s wrong?”  Wordlessly, he handed her the parchment.  She read it aloud.  “Dear Draco, I am so sorry that I have to cancel our plans for tonight.  We’ve been informed of a group of dark wizards planning mischief on a small muggle town in Scotland, and we have to go up immediately to find them and stop their plans.  I don’t know how long we’ll be, but it is likely to take several days. Never have I been more unhappy with this job, now that it is taking time away from you.  I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep in touch while I’m away, as we don’t want to attract attention to ourselves.  But I’ll let you know when I’ve returned.  Regards -Neville.”  Cass looked up, her face crumpling in sympathy.  “Oh, Draco!  You must be crushed.”

He  _was_  crushed.  “I was hoping to have at least a couple more dates with him before his birthday.  You know, in case everything goes south at the party.”

Cass hugged him.  “It will be fine, Draco!  You’ll do just fine at the party.  And you and Neville will have plenty of dates before term starts. Including the Restoration Ball.” Her eyes sparkled.  “That reminds me, we need to go back to Madam Malkin’s to get you fitted for dress robes.  Let’s go tomorrow!”

Draco shook his head. “No, I don’t want to get them, yet. What if things don’t work out between us before the ball?”

“You’ll need them anyway for the Crystal Ball in a few months.”

He shook his head, again. “I don’t think it’s required for apprentices to attend.”

Cass tugged at his arm. “But I want you to attend!  I want to dance with my handsome cousin and make all my friends jealous.  By the time of the ball, they will all have an enormous crush on the new potions apprentice.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at her.  “Oh, it’s your  _friends_  you want to make jealous? Sure, Cass.”  

She wrinkled her nose at him.  “Well, it’s a safer plan that poisoning someone with amortentia!”

“Maybe, but not as effective.”  She gave him a shove.  “Okay, fine! I’ll get the dress robes.  I have to go to Diagon Alley anyway to get this list of ingredients that Professor Copple asked for.”  Cass hugged Draco, and he was appreciative, knowing that she was trying to make him feel better about his cancelled date.  

An ugly little part of Draco’s subconscious wondered if Neville was lying about the reason for cancelling the date, just using it as a convenient excuse to avoid Draco because he regretted the promise of courtship.  Logic told him that Neville would never do something like that, but self-doubt could be a powerful influence.  This particular fear was put to rest the next day at Diagon Alley.  Cass wanted to go into Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and while they were there, George came up to Draco and chatted about the birthday party plans.  He said that Mrs. Weasley was really worried that they’d have to postpone if Ron, Harry, and Neville didn’t get back from Scotland in time.  George joked that he was tempted to go find the dark wizards himself if only to shut up his mother.  Draco felt foolish when he heard these words, wondering why he continued to let his insecurities plague him.  If only he could see Neville, look into his eyes and let the doubts melt away.

The next few days were uneventful, with Draco reading through the potions material and spending time with Cass.  She was set to go back to America a couple days after the surprise party.  Despite her attempts to distract him, the hours stretched out interminably, and his worry grew and grew.  What if something happened to Neville?  Draco kept telling himself that Neville, Ron, and Harry had faced more formidable foes.  But he knew they weren’t infallible.  The worry was reminding Draco of the war, how ever-present and suffocating the danger had been, how you couldn’t take anything for granted because your life might be taken from you in an instant.  His fears about the party began to feel trivial, small.  So what if these people hated him?  They weren’t trying to kill him.  

The night of July 30th, when Draco was on the verge of sleep, he heard a tapping at his window.  He bolted out of bed and raced to the window.  It was Neville’s owl.  

“Dear Draco, I hope you’ll forgive me for abandoning you nearly a week.  I wish I could write more, but I am exhausted and will probably fall asleep as soon as Squeak takes flight to send you this.  Just know I am home and safe and I will write you tomorrow. Regards -Neville.”

Relief coursing through him, Draco regarded the owl.  “Your name is Squeak, eh?”  The bird gazed back for a moment, and then responded with a squeak.  Draco giggled and then went to his desk to write a response. “Dear Neville, I am glad you are safe, and of course I forgive you.  I can’t say the same for the idiot wizards who took you away from me.  I look forward to hearing from you once you’ve gotten some rest.  Take care -Draco.”  He gave the note to Squeak and then went back to bed, leaving the window open so he could listen to the noises of the night, drifting into a deeper sleep than he’d had for days.

Draco woke up the next morning to a high pitched squeak.  He opened his eyes and saw Squeak sitting on his night stand. Sleepily he read the accompanying note. “Dear Draco, as it happens, today is my birthday.  I have to go into the Ministry to wrap up our mission with dreaded paperwork.  I’ll be going to visit my parents and then promised Gran I’d have some cake at her house.  I was wondering if maybe we could meet up afterward?  I really want to see you. -Neville”  Draco wrote a quick response saying he would love to.  He smiled conspiratorially, realizing that Neville still had no idea about the party.  For the first time he was actually looking forward to it, just to see the look on Neville’s face when he appears at the Burrow.

After breakfast, Draco dragged Cass upstairs to his wardrobe.  “Okay, here’s the deal.  Obviously I want to look good for Neville.  But it’s not just him.  I need to make a good impression on all his friends from Hogwarts.”

Cass gazed at him, her eyebrows raised.  “You mean those people who hated you with the intensity of a thousand suns?”

“Yep, same people.  So, which of my clothes says, ‘I am a nice guy now, give me a chance’?”

She stared at his wardrobe. “Hmmm, to be honest, Draco, I don’t think that any of this would work.  You look really, really sharp in your suits, which is great when you want to give that impression.  But suits aren’t very approachable, just the opposite.  You need something more casual, more relaxed.  And maybe not something all black.”

Draco snapped his fingers. “T-shirt and jeans!  Neville was joking during our date that I would look elegant even in a t-shirt and jeans.”

Cass nodded.  “Yes, a t-shirt and jeans would be perfect.  I didn’t know you owned any.”

Draco looked crestfallen. “I don’t.”

Cass chuckled.  “Well, I guess we have some shopping to do. Except not at Diagon Alley.  We need to go to no-maj shops.”

“No what?”

“It’s what we Americans call muggles.  They have the best style when it comes to wearing something other than wizard robes.”

Draco looked apprehensive. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been to a muggle shop.  But it’s worth a try.”

Hours later, when Draco arrived at the Burrow, he saw that there was a huge tent set up in the yard. Clearly there were going to be many more people than would fit into the house.  He swallowed hard and approached it.  He could see that it was already about half filled with people.  He could hear music and laughter and chatter as he drew closer.  He skirted around the edge, hoping to find one of the Weasleys.  That was a surreal thought, he’d certainly never sought one out before.  He did eventually spot one, but it was Ron.  Draco silently cursed.  He’d managed to avoid Ron when he was at the Burrow last time.  

Ron walked over to him, his eyes narrowed.  Draco blinked as he saw what looked like scorch marks on Ron’s face, clearly left by a curse.  It was a superficial wound, one that would heal quickly, but seeing such a mark on Ron made Draco’s blood run cold.  Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Draco suddenly blurted, “Is Neville okay?”

Ron’s head snapped back. “What?”

Draco pointed to his face. “You’ve been in a duel.  That means those dark wizards fought back. Neville said in his note that he was safe, but he didn’t mention getting hurt.” His voice was tight with fear.    

Ron blinked at him.  “No, no, Neville’s fine.  Not a scratch.  I’m the only one who took the brunt of it.”

Draco exhaled in relief. “Good.  That’s good.  Not good that you got hurt, but good that Neville’s okay.  Look, do you know when he’s going to get here?”

Ron shrugged.  “His Gran said it varies when it comes to visiting his parents.  Could take half an hour.  Could be two hours.  You’ll just have to be patient.”

“Not my strong suit,” Draco ground out.

Ron huffed, but gave a half smile.  “There’s, uh, a punch bowl set up over there if you’re thirsty.  I have to go help bring out some more pumpkin pasties.”  

Draco nodded, and Ron gave a short nod back, his expression speculative as he turned towards the house.  Draco continued to edge around the perimeter of the tent, not really wanting to actually step inside and be seen by people. He saw the punch bowl situated in a corner of the tent and went to pour a glass.  He went and stood by one of the tent poles, facing away from the interior.

He heard a voice behind him say, “Hannah?  Hannah Abbot?”

“Pavarti!  Hi!  Oh wow, it’s been  _years_  since I’ve seen you.”

“I know!  Not since the DA meetings.  Merlin, that was our 5th year.  I guess with the war and everything we lost touch.  But you must have kept up with either Harry or Neville, since you’re here for the party.”

“Yeah, Neville and I have lunch together sometimes.  I work at the Ministry, too.”

“Oh really?  How is he?”

“Well, I haven’t seen him in several weeks.  He tends to be away a lot in his job as Auror.  I’m dying to catch up with him tonight to find out if the rumors are true.”

“What rumors?”

“One of my coworkers said he was spotted at the Puddlemere game holding hands with none other than Draco Malfoy.”

“ _What_?  Are you serious?  Neville and  _Malfoy_?  That makes no sense at all.  We both know how Neville feels about dark wizards.  And why would Malfoy be interested in him?  He was always so hateful to Neville, from the very beginning of school.  I still remember that first flying lesson, it made my blood boil…”

“I know!  It’s bonkers, isn’t it?  And everyone in the office is shocked that an Auror would date a known death eater. I mean, Malfoy and his parents were pardoned, but still!   _Nobody_  thinks it can possibly work out between those two.  Not if Neville wants to keep his career as an Auror.”

The voices of the two girls faded as they walked away from where Draco was standing.  He squeezed his eyes shut as he took in this awful news. Did Neville realize that dating Draco was career suicide?  Draco opened his eyes again and jumped slightly when he saw a girl standing next to him gazing up with a placid expression.  She had long, light blonde hair, and gray eyes.  She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen her before.

“She’s right, you know.” Her voice was high and musical.  “Nobody thinks it will work out with you and Neville.”

He stared down at her, amazed at her directness.  “Who are  _you_?”

She smiled dreamily. “I’m nobody.”

He frowned.  “What?”

“That’s what people used to say to me at Hogwarts when I tried to make friends with them.  ‘You’re just a nobody.’  And then they would walk away laughing.”

He realized then that she’d been making an odd little joke.  He relaxed slightly as she continued, “It’s actually a better nickname than the other one they gave me.  Loony. That one’s making fun of my real name, you see, and it hurts because I like my real name.”

Draco really didn’t know what to make of this girl.  “And what is your real name?”

Her smile widened. “Luna.  Luna Lovegood.”

Draco blinked. “That’s a very pretty name.  I can see why you wouldn’t like them twisting it up.”

Luna cocked her head. “You’re quite different than you used to be.  We never interacted, but you seemed like the type who would have been just as likely to twist up my name as the others.”

He smiled sheepishly. “It is the sort of thing I would have done, yes.  But not anymore.  Are you sure we didn’t meet before, because you look familiar.”

“I was in Dumbledore’s Army, and you were quite keen to catch us in the act.  I’m pretty sure you followed me once.”

Draco’s cheeks reddened. “Oh.  Right.”

“Hannah and Pavarti were also in Dumbledore’s Army.  I had fun with them, learning how to defend against dark spells.  But once you and your squad broke up our meetings, they never seemed interested in spending any more time with me.  I went back to being nobody.”

“And nobody thinks it will work out with me and Neville?”

She smiled and winked. “Exactly!  Cheers.”  She held up the glass of punch she’d been holding and after a brief hesitation he held his up and clinked it against hers.  

As he sipped his punch, he felt the dread leaving him, replaced by an unexplained warmth.  He cleared his throat.  “Well, obviously you aren’t a nobody or else you wouldn’t have been invited to this party.  You must be friends with either Harry or Neville.”

She smiled.  “Both, actually.  Although sometimes I think neither of them are sure how to act around me.” She leaned in and whispered, “I’m a bit of an oddball.”

Draco grinned.  “I like oddballs.  I’ve learned to admire people who don’t behave in the way that’s expected of them.”

“If that’s true, you should subscribe to the Quibbler.  It’s my father’s newspaper, and I can guarantee that it will always contain the unexpected.”

Draco laughed.  “I will absolutely do that.”


	7. A Very Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No more trope themes from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up until this point, the POV has alternated chapter to chapter between Nev and Draco. The first part of this chapter used to go with chapter 6, so it is still Draco's POV. The second half is Nev's POV.

The music turned off and a hush fell over the crowd as Mrs. Weasley’s voice boomed out from the wand at her throat.  “Okay everyone, we’re not sure yet when Neville will get here, but Ginny’s on her way with Harry.  We’ll all yell surprise when he gets here, and then we’ll just do it again later for Neville.  Now, I’m going to dim the lights.  They should apparate right in front of the tent and I’ll turn the lights back on and that’s your cue!”

The lights dimmed, and everyone stood in the dark, whispering and giggling.  There was a soft whoosh, and Ginny and Harry suddenly blinked into view a few feet from the tent.  The lights went back up and everyone yelled, “Surprise!!!”

Harry looked gobsmacked, then thrilled.  He started walking towards the tent.  Limping, more like.  Draco, who had been laughing along with everyone else, suddenly felt cold.  Harry was limping!  Clearly he’d been hurt while they were in Scotland.  Draco saw that Harry was approaching Ron and Hermione, who embraced him as he came into the tent.  Draco went up to them as they were laughing and talking, and he grabbed Ron’s arm.  “You told me you were the only one hurt when those dark wizards attacked you!  But I can see that Harry’s limping!  Tell me the truth!  I need to know if Neville was hurt!”  His expression was a mingle of fury and fighting to hold back tears.  

Harry put his hand on Draco’s shoulder.  “Whoa! Neville’s fine, Draco.  I didn’t get hurt in Scotland.  Ginny and I were visiting my parent’s grave in Godric’s Hollow and right before we disapparated, I tripped over an old gravestone and twisted my ankle a bit.”

Hermione laughed fondly. “Oh Harry, always the klutz.”

Draco flushed as he realized he was jumping to conclusions.  “I…I’m sorry, Ron.”

Ron nodded.  “It’s okay, mate.  I see that you really care about Neville.”  Draco lifted his shoulders sheepishly.   “Yeah, well, he wouldn’t shut up about you the whole time we were in Scotland.  I think the only reason I bum rushed that gang was so I wouldn’t have to hear about it anymore.”

Draco couldn’t contain the smile that leapt to his face hearing that Neville had been talking about him.   “Um…I see. Well…uh…happy birthday,  _Potter_.”  He said the name in an exaggerated way, the way he used to address Harry.

“Thank you,  _Malfoy_.”  Harry’s eyes narrowed, like they used to, and then they both laughed.

As some of Harry’s friends approached to wish him a happy birthday, Draco found himself facing Ginny. She looked him up and down.  “You look nice, Draco.  Not as imposing without your black suit.”

Draco went a little pink. “That was the idea.  My cousin Cass helped me.”  She hadn’t been able to convince him to wear something bright and cheerful, but she’d at least steered him away from black.  He was wearing all grey, to match his eyes.  The t-shirt was a very soft material, and the denim trousers were a brand name that he’d never heard of, but Cass assured him the designer knew what he was doing to fit a man’s form.  And boy did it ever.  Draco had been a little embarrassed at the way both the t-shirt and jeans hugged his body, but Cass said that Neville would love it.  She also agreed with Neville’s prediction that he would look elegant.  

“Well, she has a good eye. Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

He nodded.  “Actually, yes.  I’ve been talking to Luna.”

Ginny smiled softly. “Well, then.  I guess any fears I had are put to rest.  Luna is the most perceptive person I know.  And if she likes you, then that means you really have changed.”

Warmth spread into Draco. So, apparently he’d passed some sort of test that he didn’t know he was taking.  

Suddenly a ghostly figure appeared in front of the tent.  It was the face of a rather imposing woman, and she said in a sonorous tone that Neville would be arriving shortly.  Then the face winked out.  Clearly that had been Neville’s grandmother warning them of their arrival.  Mrs. Weasley dimmed the lights as before. Another soft whoosh, and Neville appeared with the old woman.  The lights went up and everyone yelled “Surprise!!!”

Neville looked extremely confused, and then comprehension dawned.  He laughed in delight and looked down at his grandmother, who was giving him a smug smile.  He hugged her, and then turned to approach the tent.  Draco couldn’t take his eyes off him.  Neville was finally here.  A whole week had passed since their date, and it had felt like months.  

Draco suddenly felt shy, and retreated back to the punch bowl, watching as people came up to Neville to wish him a happy birthday.  All these people knew Neville so much better than Draco.  They’d earned their place in his world, he didn’t want to interfere and take focus away from them.  Neville made his way to the center of the tent, chatting with his friends, his expression fond.  

Draco noticed, though, that he seemed distracted.  He’d pay attention on the people who were talking to him, but every so often his eyes would lift and scan the room for a moment before looking back at his friends. Draco wondered at first what he was looking for, but then realized the answer as soon as Neville’s eyes found and locked onto his.  His expression became exultant and he shouted, “Draco!”  The person who’d been talking to Neville - Draco saw it was Pavarti Patil - stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening.  

Not sure what to do, Draco smiled self-consciously and raised his hand and gave a little wave. Neville immediately started walking swiftly towards him.  Draco flushed as people seemed to stop talking and turned to stare.  When Neville stopped in front of him, though, everyone else seemed to melt away and Draco gave him the biggest smile he could muster. Neville looked him up and down, his expression briefly turning sultry as he took in what Draco was wearing, and then pulled Draco into a hug.  

  
Neville whispered in his ear, “I’m so glad you’re here.  I was looking around for you, but I honestly didn’t think you would show up with this many people here.”

Draco murmured back. “I knew that you’d want me here. So I came.”

Neville hugged him tighter. “ _Thank you_.  I hope you’ll forgive me for what I’m about to do, but I want it to be clear to all my friends what you are to me.”  Before Draco could figure out what he meant, Neville pulled back slightly, but only far enough to tilt his head down and press his lips to Draco’s.  Draco heard a few gasps, and a lot of murmuring, but he couldn’t be bothered to care what people thought.  He knew in that moment that he would absolutely go with Neville to the Restoration Ball.

********

Neville tried to remember when he’d ever been this happy.  Probably 5th year during the DA meetings was the closest.  He’d been dating Fred, growing in confidence with wand work, friendly camaraderie with other students from multiple houses.  Of course, those good times had been tempered with the looming threat of Voldemort, and the immediate threat of Professor Umbridge.  Here in the present, there were no such threats, not even the dark wizards they’d captured the day before.  It was his birthday, he had his Gran and closest friends celebrating with delicious food and music, and best of all he had Draco by his side.

Neville glanced down at him.  An incredibly hot Draco.  That t-shirt and jeans molded to his every muscular curve.  He also loved that Draco had dressed with him in mind, because he was willing to bet that this outfit did not exist in Draco’s wardrobe before last week.  The best part was that it matched his eyes, which reminded Neville of the swollen rain clouds that would roll up on the Black Lake at Hogwarts, right before a thunderstorm. 

The evening seemed to be going well in terms of people interacting with Draco. He’d known that kissing Draco would send a clear message that they were together and put people on their best behavior in deference to the birthday boy.  There were more than a few fake cheerful smiles, some more fake than cheerful, but everyone kept it polite.  Neville was extremely pleased to see that Draco and Luna had already met and were getting along even before Neville had arrived.

There was a faint rumbling sound that grew louder and louder, and Neville realized it was the sound of a motorbike.  He looked up and saw it approaching from the sky.  Hagrid was aboard.  Everyone in the tent stopped what they were doing and watched as Hagrid landed.  He was successful, but it was a near thing.  Some of the nearby crops were scorched, but better the crops than the tent.  He clambered off and squinted towards the tent.  “Harry?  Neville?  I’m here to wish you a happy birthday!”

Neville glanced over at Draco, whose expression was grim.  Draco looked up at him and gave him a tight smile.  “You go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

Draco tried to let go of his hand so that Neville could go to Hagrid, but Neville squeezed his hand tighter and gave him a pleading look.  Draco sighed and then nodded, pressing his lips together in a tight line.  They started walking towards Hagrid.  Neville knew that Draco was nervous because he and his father had caused Hagrid much distress over the years.  Hagrid was very gentle and kind, but he also wasn’t fake.  If he loathed someone, he didn’t bother with civility.

Harry had gotten to Hagrid first, and was currently being squeezed to death.  Neville hung back a bit to let them have a moment.  After a few minutes, he approached with Draco.  He overheard Harry say, “So how did you get Sirius’s motorbike?  I had it in storage.”

“Ginny arranged to get it to me.  It was the fastest way that I could get here from Hogwarts.  I’ve been busy with the last minute restorations before the ball.”

“I should probably just let you have it, it suits you more.  I prefer brooms if I’m not apparating.”

Hagrid shook his wooly head.  “No, Sirius gave it to you in his will.  He wanted you to have it.”

Neville looked over at Draco and wondered how he felt about the fact that a member of his own family, the last heir to the Black name, had bequeathed all his belongings to Harry.  He didn’t seem perturbed, only nervous.

Neville cleared his throat.  “Hey Hagrid!”

Hagrid turned to Neville and beamed at him.  He enveloped Neville in a bear hug.  “Happy Birthday, Neville!”

When the hug was finished, Neville stepped back and reclaimed Draco’s hand.  “Hagrid, I believe you know my boyfriend, Draco.”

Draco shot him a look of such warmth that he completely forgot what else he’d been about to say.  Blinking rapidly, he looked back at Hagrid, who was staring at the two of them in stunned silence.  Harry cleared his throat.  “Oh Draco, I completely forgot to tell you about the motorbike when I was sharing stories of Sirius.  I’ll have to catch you up when we go to Grimmauld place next week.”

Hagrid’s expression became even more ludicrous.  He shook his head as if to clear it.  “What’s going on here?  Since when did you all become friendly with _him?_   Have you forgotten that he almost had Buckb…”  Hagrid broke off, his voice too choked with emotion to continue.

Draco spoke, his voice trembling, “Hagrid, I want to express my sincerest regret for what happened with Buckbeak.  I was rude to him, and then used what happened as a way to get attention from my classmates and from my..my father.  It was inexcusable and I’m so, so sorry.”  There was a long silence, and Hagrid gave him the barest nod of acknowledgement.  Draco swallowed and continued, “ I..um…I thought I saw him at the Battle of Hogwarts, flying with some other creatures I’d never seen before.  I didn’t know if it was him or some other hippogriff.”

Harry spoke up again.  “It was him.  He survived and he’s back living at Hogwarts again.”

Draco nodded and cleared his throat.  “Um…Neville and I are going to be at the Restoration ball in a couple weeks…” Neville’s eyes widened at hearing this, and his heart pounded with joy.  “I um…I wonder if it would be okay for me to go see Buckbeak and apologize for my disrespectful behavior.  I mean, if he would even remember me.”

Hagrid lifted his chin, the coldness in his eyes starting to thaw.  “Oh, he will.  Hippogriffs have long memories.  And aren’t very forgiving,” he warned.

Draco blinked, but was still hopeful.  “Maybe I could bring him a peace offering?”

Hagrid nodded thoughtfully.  “That might work.  Bring him a treat, keep him from attacking right off.  Let’s see…his favorite has always been ferrets.”

Harry snorted loudly, and then clapped his hand over his mouth and looked wide-eyed at Draco, whose expression was now a frozen mask.  Neville had to bite his lip hard not to also laugh, and he felt terrible about it.  Hagrid looked confused, but then suddenly he remembered.  “Oh!  Er…uh…well, he also likes birds.  A few pigeons would be nice.”

Suddenly Draco grinned.  “No, I think ferrets would actually be more fitting under the circumstances.  Don’t you?”

Hagrid gave a great bellow of laughter, his eyes watering.  “Yes, I think it just might be.”

Neville felt enormous relief, and leaned over and kissed Draco’s cheek.

They settled into small talk for a bit, and then Neville excused himself, saying he wanted to go get some punch.  He and Draco made their way over to the punch bowl, but then Neville tugged his hand so that they went past it and out of the tent a few yards.  Neville breathed in the fresh air of the countryside, and then pulled Draco into his arms.  “So, what was that look you gave me when I called you my boyfriend?”

Draco smiled sweetly.  “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it another time.  I’m more interested in your reaction when I mentioned the Restoration Ball.”

“It made me very happy.  I look forward to seeing if you pull off dress robes as well as you do the t-shirt and jeans.”

Draco’s cheeks went pink.  “I have it on good authority that I look very impressive in the robes I purchased a few days ago.”

Neville’s eyebrows went skyward.  “You’ve already bought them?  So you’ve known that long that you wanted to go to the ball?”

“Well, not exactly.  Cass convinced me to get them because she wants me to go to the Crystal Ball at her school.  Ilvermorny has the ball every year right before the winter holidays.”

Neville exhaled.  “Ilvermorny,” he said with resentfulness.  “The job that’s going to take you away from me.”

Draco huffed.  “I seem to recall yours did the same this past week.”

Neville felt a spike of guilt.  “I’m so sorry for cancelling our date.”

Draco looked contrite.  “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.  I know your work is important.  You probably saved lives this week.”

Neville shook his head.  “It’s not enough, anymore.  I don’t know how much longer I want to do this.  It was very important to me to be an Auror when we were cleaning up the mess left by Voldemort, making sure to put his followers in Azkaban.  But we’ve gotten pretty much everyone that was associated specifically with him.  Those guys in Scotland were just garden variety dirtbags.”

Draco’s eyes widened.  “Are you thinking of doing something else?”

Neville shrugged.  “I know I want to do something else, I just don’t know what yet.”

Something that looked like relief appeared on Draco’s face.  Neville frowned at him questioningly.  Draco shrugged.  “I guess if you’re unhappy with your job, then it wouldn’t matter to you if you lost it.  I overheard someone say that there’s been gossip about us at the Ministry and speculation that your job could be in danger for dating a death eater.”

Neville scoffed.  “Minister Shacklebolt would never let that happen, he’s not an idiot.  But if the Ministry did fire me for such an asinine reason, I’d be well shot of them.”  Draco chuckled and relaxed in his arms.  Quietly, Neville said, “I told my parents that I don’t want to be an Auror anymore.  They didn’t react at all, which is typical.”  He looked down at Draco.  “My mom did react when I told them about you.  It was just the tiniest little smile, her lips curving so slightly that I wondered for a moment if I imagined it.  But I know I didn’t. “

He felt Draco’s fingers clutch against his shirt.   “You didn’t say my name, did you?”

“I told them your first name.  I didn’t dare say your last name.”

Draco exhales in relief.  “I’m glad you had a nice time with your parents.  I’m glad I got to see you tonight.  I’ve had a surprisingly good time.  Having said that, I would really, really like it if our next date didn’t take place in a crowd.”

Neville grinned.  “I concur.  Maybe tomorrow night I can make up for that dinner I had to cancel?”

Draco gave him his winningest smile, which made Neville’s legs feel like rubber.  “Brilliant idea.  And if anymore dark wizards bollocks it up, just tell me where they are and I’ll make sure they regret they ever picked up a wand."


	8. Restoration Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My chapter about the Ball ended up having so much activity that I split it up. Therefore, both 8 and 9 are from Draco's POV.

In the weeks following the birthday party, Draco and Neville went on a number of dates, most of them private so they could continue getting to know each other before the Restoration Ball.  Draco marveled at how close they got so quickly, though it made sense in a strange way.  They weren’t like typical new couples that had a lot of ground to cover.  They’d gone to the same school, belonged to a relatively small wizarding community, so they already knew most of their backgrounds.  And they’d been stripped of their pretensions by the War, so all that mattered to them was learning about the stuff that really mattered.  They found that most of those things they had in common. Of course, Draco also loved learning about the mundane.  One of his favorite discoveries was finding out how well Neville could cook.  Draco joked that he put the herb in herbology.  For his part, Draco loved mixing cocktails, so Neville nicknamed him the Potions Master.   

On one of their few social outings, they had lunch with Cassie at the Leaky Cauldron before she left to go back to America.  Neville wore a flannel shirt and Doc Martens just for her benefit and she was delighted.  She made sure to get some pictures with him to show her friends.  Draco would bet all the galleons in his pockets that she planned to make sure her crush saw them as well. 

Cassie went with them to Madam Malkin’s to help Neville choose what he would wear to the ball while Draco was in another room trying on his newly tailored dress robes.  She hinted strongly that Neville could get more use out of his new robes if he were Draco’s date to the Crystal Ball.  He just chuckled and said that if Draco still wanted anything to do with him after the Restoration Ball, he’d be happy to attend. 

Draco was nervous about the upcoming trip to Hogwarts.  When they’d walked around Diagon Alley, they’d gotten a number of sidelong glances from other shoppers.  He was used to some staring, but apparently a former death eater and an auror together caused rather more of a stir.  There was even a blind item about them the next day in the Daily Prophet.  “What’s more important to this Ministry of Magic employee – capturing dark wizards, or capturing their hearts?” 

The next day, Draco asked Neville if he’d gotten any flack from his superiors.  Neville laughed.  “You forget Harry Potter is my superior.  You know how he feels about gossip in the Prophet.”

Draco grimaced.  “You’re saying he’s sympathetic towards us?  When I was the one responsible for a lot of the rubbish they printed about him as Triwizard Champion?  Merlin, the irony of it all.”

“Speaking of irony, have you ordered your ferrets for Buckbeak?”  Neville, bless him, didn’t crack a smile.

Draco sighed.  “Yes.  Hagrid told me about his supplier and I stopped in at Knockturn Alley.”  That had been an unpleasant errand.  Draco had nothing but bad memories of that place. 

The day of the ball finally came.  They met Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest so that Draco could visit with Buckbeak.  It went better than he expected.  It was obvious from the hippogriff’s agitated behavior that the magnificent creature remembered him, as Hagrid said he would.  But the ferrets kept him just calm enough for Draco to stutter out an apology, head bowed.  Buckbeak consented to let him stroke his head, but Hagrid thought it best not to request a ride. 

All too soon it was time for the ball itself.  Draco felt a little better, having had success with Buckbeak.  But given the blind item, he knew that he and Neville would have a lot of attention on them.  As he finished getting ready in the room he’d rented above the Three Broomsticks, he heard a swish and saw that something had been shoved under his door.  He picked it up.  It was a copy of the Quibbler.  On the front page was an article about dark marks, and what it took to remove them.  The details were correct, which meant that someone from the Weasley party must have passed it along.  Probably Hermione, she was the one most fascinated by the procedure.  “As of this printing there has been only one known case of a dark mark being successfully removed, by a young man who took it only to protect his family from the Dark Lord.  We do not name him out of respect for his privacy, but we can say with confidence that he is no death eater.”  Draco smiled.  Bless Luna Lovegood.  Of course, the Quibbler didn’t have a wide readership, so it might only sway a few minds.  But it made him feel good that someone in the media was on his side.

Draco went downstairs to meet Neville so they could walk over to the castle together.  When he saw Neville across the room in his dress robes, he felt a plume of warmth unfurl in his chest.  The black robes and waistcoat with white shirt and bowtie were a classic combination - clean, simple lines that deceptively transformed the relaxed young man into a dashing gentleman.  Not a complete transformation, however.  To Draco’s delight, Neville had kept his beard.  It was a comforting reminder that Neville was still the same down to earth person who would only go so far to appease social conventions.  It was an interesting contrast to Blaise’s stylish look at the Yule Ball.  The robes that Draco had admired so much back then were chosen to be admired and to emphasize both his wealth and his model good looks.  Which said a lot about Blaise’s personality.   

Draco himself had gone with a rakish look.  Everything was black, of course – robes, waistcoat, shirt.  He knew his favorite color would only added to the public’s perception that he was a dark wizard, but he didn’t care.  The only thing missing from his ensemble was the black bowtie that Draco _had_ planned to wear.  But last night when they were kissing goodnight, Neville made a comment about how much he loved the long, pale column of his neck.  So Draco skipped the tie, choosing instead to leave the top button of his dress shirt open.  Pinned to his lapel was a replica of the pearly white flower Neville had given him after their first date.  Neville’s smile went lopsided when he saw the flower, just the reaction Draco had been hoping for. 

They drew closer and closer to each other, both smiling broadly, and then Neville became impatient and took several quick steps to close the gap and sweep Draco into a kiss, careful not to crush the flower or muss Draco’s hair (he’d learned his lesson about that).  After several steamy moments, Neville lifted his head and whispered huskily, “You look good enough to eat.”  He was directing his gaze at Draco’s neck as he said it.

Draco smirked at him.  “Are you part vampire?  Never mind.  Take a raincheck on that, it’s a bit early in the evening to be getting beard rash.”

Neville sighed gustily.  “Are you sure?  I could get rid of the beard in a flash.  I know a spell…

“Don’t you dare!” 

Neville laughed at Draco’s appalled expression. “Alright then, let’s go face the masses.”  They left the pub and joined the stream of witches and wizards who were also heading to the castle from Hogsmeade. 

When the castle came into view, Draco realized that it was his first time setting eyes on Hogwarts since the War.  He hadn’t seen it earlier when they were in the Forbidden Forest visiting Buckbeak, the trees had been too thick.  Draco stopped in his tracks, seized with a flood of emotions.  Neville looked at him with concern.  “Are you okay?”

Draco shook his head.  “I didn’t realize…how stupid of me.  I was so concerned about the people, that I didn’t think about what seeing this place would feel like.”

Neville put his arm around Draco and drew him to a spot out of the way of the foot traffic, but where they could still see the castle in the distance.  “I should have realized as well.  I’ve been here loads of times helping Professor Sprout rebuild the Herbology department.  I’ve had time to process the memories of seeing it get destroyed during the Battle, but you haven’t.”

Draco stared at it.  “I’m not sure what I was expecting to see.  Either that it would look exactly the same…or something completely modern.”  He wasn’t sure which one he would have preferred. 

Neville leaned in to talk low into Draco’s ear.  “There was a huge debate in the Architectural office at the Ministry about that very same thing.  The traditionalists wanted to preserve the history of the castle.  But it was agreed that if they made it look too much like it did before, it would seem as if they were trying to erase what had happened to it during the War.    They eventually settled on compromises.  It looks very similar to the way it had been, but there are modern accents and features to make it more appealing to the new generations of students.”

Draco nodded, closing his eyes and trying not to think about the Battle.  Worse than that memory was the one of the night he let in the death eaters and watched in growing terror as they smashed and blew up and set things on fire.   The destruction that night had been directly his fault and he wasn’t sure he would ever get over his guilt.  He took a deep breath, grabbing Neville’s hand tightly, and continued down the path to the castle.

There was a long queue to get in, and Draco was feeling nervous.  If any of the bored wizards recognized him, he wouldn’t be able to walk away if they said something to him.  But fortunately, people were too busy chattering with each other to take notice of him.  Once they were inside, they made their way to the Great Hall. 

“Mr. Longbottom!  I am quite pleased to see you here.”  They turned and saw Headmistress McGonagall.  Of course, the first person they meet _would_ be the former head of Gryffindor house.  “You told me when you delivered the gift from Beauxbatons that you weren’t going to come.”

Neville grinned at her.  “Well, that was when I was feeling sorry for myself that I’d be coming alone.  But then I started dating Draco and…well, then I couldn’t wait to be here.”

“Indeed!”  She turned her eyes to Draco, her gaze sharp and assessing.  “Mr. Malfoy, you’re quite popular in the newspapers this past week, though they keep neglecting to mention your name.  That was you in that Quibbler article, yes?”

Draco reflexively grasped his forearm.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, you don’t have to prove it to me, my dear.  I believe you.  I’ll be sure to share the news with Professor Dumbledore’s portrait next time I’m in my office.  He and I have talked about you at length.  About the night he died.”  To Draco’s surprise, her expression was soft.  He blinked, not knowing what to say.  The fact that Dumbledore told her what happened and she didn’t hate him, left him stunned.

She held out her hands, and after a moment’s hesitation, Neville and Draco reached out to grasp them, so that they were joined in a circle.  “You know it’s a rare thing to behold, but I’m always pleased whenever I see rapport between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin.  I wish you boys all the best.  Now go, have a good time!”  She let go of their hands and shooed them off.  As they started to walk away, she called out, “Oh, Mr. Longbottom, I almost forgot!  Professor Sprout wanted to have a word with you.  She’s right over there.”  She pointed, and they could see her a few yards away talking to Professor Slughorn.

Neville looked at Draco.  “Do you mind if we go talk to her?  It’s probably about the restoration.”  Draco smiled his assent and they walked over.  When Professor Sprout saw them, her face lit up and she drew Neville aside.

Professor Slughorn turned to Draco.  “Mr. Malfoy, I’m surprised to see you here.  I thought you’d be off in America by now.”  His tone and expression seemed oddly put out.

“Oh, um…term starts August 27th.  Professor Copple didn’t request for me to get there early.  Which reminds me, I want to thank you for giving me a good reference.”

Slughorn huffed.  “Don’t thank me.  I only had you for one year, so I didn’t really know anything about your abilities.  I asked Professor Snape’s portrait in the headmistress’s office and he was the one who had nothing but glowing things to say about you.  I just passed along what he shared with me.”  Draco was deeply touched to hear this.  “He did ask me one question, and I’m afraid I didn’t have an answer for him.  If you are so interested in teaching potions, why do you want to apprentice in America and not here at Hogwarts?  Do you not believe I am good enough to teach you?” 

Draco’s eyes widened.  No wonder the professor had looked offended.  “No!  Oh no, Professor, that’s not it at all.  I didn’t take the position because I had a particular desire to teach potions.  I mean, I am looking forward to it.  But it wasn’t my main motivation.  I just…I wanted to be as far away as I could get from everyone that knows me and my past.  Everything that’s happened to me the last few years…It’s left me feeling pretty isolated.”

Slughorn nodded thoughtfully.  “I see.  Yes, that does make sense.  But you aren’t isolated now, it seems.”

Draco smiled warmly.  “Neville’s been helping me get reacquainted with society, so people can see that I’ve changed.  Coming to the ball was meant to be kind of a test.  If I can make it through tonight, then I’ll know that this is still my home.  I do have to go to Ilvermorny and fulfill my obligations, no matter what.  But I’d be free to come back here after end of term.”

Slughorn gave him an assessing look.  “Hmm, and if you do come back?  What will you do then?”

Draco shrugged.  “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“Well, if you find that you like teaching potions, you can always continue your apprenticeship with me.”

Draco’s eyebrows went skyward in surprise.  “You’re thinking of retiring?”

Slughorn rolled his eyes.  “Young man, I’ve already been in retirement once.  I only came back because Albus needed me.  I’m more than ready to hang it up again if we can find a suitable replacement.”

Draco grinned.  “Of course, I forgot.  Well, I will let you know as soon as I get back.  I have been enjoying the books that Professor Copple assigned me to read.  American potion-making is similar in a lot of ways, but there are a few interesting differences.”

“Really?  Merlin’s beard, oh I would really love to hear more about it.  But…er…not tonight, of course.  Tonight is for merriment.  Would you be willing to meet me for lunch some time before you have to leave?”

Draco grinned.  “Absolutely, Professor.”  He noted that Neville had rejoined them, and he was subtly nodding towards the refreshment table.  “If you’ll excuse me, we haven’t had dinner yet...”  Slughorn beamed and patted him on the shoulder before ambling away.  Draco turned to Neville, and as they started walking towards the refreshment table, he looped his arm around Neville’s elbow.   “I’ve just had a rather remarkable conversation with Professor Slughorn.”  He gave Neville a brief rundown.

Neville smiled ruefully.  “I guess if Professor Snape was ever going to say anything positive about anyone, it would be you.”  Draco laughed.  “That’s great news about Slughorn’s offer to continue your apprenticeship here.  It’s yet another incentive for you to come back.”

Draco gazed at him.  “You’re incentive enough, I think.”

Neville gave him a shy smile.  “You know, it’s interesting he offered you a position here at Hogwarts, because my talk with Professor Sprout ran along the same lines.  She’s going to be retiring and she is very keen for me to take her place.”

Draco’s head whipped around and his eyes widened.  “Wow, really?  Neville, you would be amazing!  This is just the sort of thing you’ve been talking about.”  During the past couple weeks, Neville had shared his thoughts about a possible career related to his love of herbology.  His ideas included opening a commercial greenhouse or doing research on new species that are being discovered.

Neville nodded.  “I guess I’ll add Herbology apprentice to the list of options.  I have a lot of things to think about.”

“Whatever it is you decide, I know you’ll be much happier than you are now.  Although I am leaning towards the new species research.”

Neville rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, so it can give you ideas for new potions.”  Draco grinned.  “I was mentioning that to Professor Sprout and she said that she often spends her summers doing research, though in her case she’s occupied with learning how to preserve species that are almost extinct.”

They chatted about it while queueing for food.  Draco asked if Professor Sprout had written any books or papers about her work, as some of the plants Neville mentioned were also referenced in the potions books he was reading.  He didn’t like the idea of such ingredients no longer existing.  He hadn’t realized until just now how much their respective interests in herbology and potions intersected.

As they were filling their plates, Draco began to notice that they were getting sidelong glances from people.  And there were whispers.  Adopting a look of bravado he didn’t feel, he turned a glare towards one group of whisperers.  To his surprise, their expressions weren’t suspicious, scornful, or even speculative.  There just seemed to be curiosity.  He also realized that he recognized them - former Hufflepuffs.  One of them was the girl that had been at the birthday party – Hannah Abbott.  Draco leaned over to Neville.  “We’re about to have company.” 

Neville looked up.  “Oh wow, I haven’t seen Justin and Ernie since school.  Hannah was at the birthday party.”

“I know, she was the one I overheard speculating on your future in the Ministry if you date me.”

Neville shook his head.  “She was just worried about me, is all.  I had lunch with her after the party and we had a nice long chat about you.”

Draco felt his cheeks warm.  When the trio finally stepped up to them, Justin Finch Fletchley smirked, “Hello Malfoy.  Good to see you’re no longer looking _sluggish_.”

Draco’s cheeks grew even warmer as he remembered the incident on the Hogwarts Express at the end of 5th year term.  It was bad enough that he’d been turned into a slug, but then Blaise found out and refused to talk to him for several weeks out of scorn that he’d been beaten by Hufflepuffs. 

Hannah elbowed Justin in the ribs.  “What he means to say is that he’s glad we’re no longer on opposite ends of each other’s wands.”

Draco wanted to say something scathing, but he cleared his throat and offered a rueful smile.  “I’m relieved to hear that.  You’re quite the dueler.”

Justin blinked at the compliment.  “Well to be fair, I’ve heard you’re a good dueler yourself.  It’s just that there were seven of us and you had…well…you had Crabbe and Goyle.”

Draco chuckled wryly, even as he winced inwardly to hear the names.  He honestly didn’t ever want to think about them again.  His two childhood friends…oh how things have changed.  Crabbe was dead by his own wicked curse, and Goyle…well, Draco wouldn’t be surprised if the Aurors were keeping a close eye on him. 

Since they all had plates of food, they went to a nearby table and sat together.  Draco was afraid that Neville and the Hufflepuffs would spend the whole time reminiscing about school and their participation in Dumbledore’s Army.  But to his pleasant surprise and relief, they talked about their current lives instead.

Draco and Neville continued to get curious looks their way.  Occasionally people came over on the pretext of saying hello to Neville or one of the Hufflepuffs, but clearly they were curious about him.  Everyone who stopped by was polite and Draco returned their politeness and occasional warmth.  One of the visitors was George Weasley, who slapped Draco on the back.  His jovial manner soon had Draco laughing in delight, which set more than a few eyebrows skyward. 

It wasn’t long before people started drifting over to the dance floor where a band was set up.  Neville swept Draco into a waltz.  Neville sighed in contentment.  “Finally!  I’ve been wanting to do this for so long…to dance with someone I’m romantically involved with.  Ginny was a great partner, but this is so much better.”

Draco’s smile was full of sunshine.  “I’d say I’m happier too, considering I didn’t have to twist myself into a pretzel to get your attention.”

“Nope, all you had to do was give me that gorgeous smile that I love, the same one that’s on your face right now.”

Draco’s lips widened even further, and his cheeks warmed.  “I’m eternally grateful to my cousin.  If she hadn’t made me laugh that day, you never would have seen it.  I didn’t think I’d ever smile again, Neville.  And now I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”  Neville pulled him closer.

Most of the time they danced with each other, but occasionally they split up to dance with other folks.  Draco made a beeline for Luna Lovegood as soon as he saw her.  Neville took Mrs. Weasley for a lovely turn around the room.  Draco even danced with Harry Potter, which caused so many whispers that he wondered whether a swarm of locusts had descended upon the room.  The most memorable dance, however, had been with Charlie Weasley.  The song was fast, loud, heavily featured the electric guitar, and Charlie was a whirling dervish.  Fueled by his delight that the evening was going well so far, Draco kept right up with the pumped-up dragon tamer. 

When the song was over, Draco was flushed and sweating and badly in need of something to drink.  Neville appeared at his side, giggling madly, and steered him towards the punch bowl.  “That was brilliant, Draco.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone able to keep up with Charlie.”  Draco, his chest heaving, could only nod and exhale a shaky laugh. 

He grabbed a cup and pointed his wand at it.  “Aguamenti.”  He wanted to rehydrate a bit before he tried some of the sugary punch.  He gulped down the water, then another cupful before he finally approached the punch bowl. 

“Draco?”  He turned his head at the familiar voice, and saw Pansy Parkinson standing a couple feet away. 

Next to him, he felt Neville’s body tense.  For a moment he thought it was anxiety because she had bullied Neville in school, and Draco’s first instinct was to step between them protectively.  But then he realized that couldn’t be the case.  Neville was brave and sure of himself.  He’d faced down bloody Voldemort.  Someone like Pansy was _nothing_ to him.  So clearly Neville’s concern wasn’t for himself, it was for Draco. 

When they were discussing the ball, Neville had felt confident that most wizards and witches, once they realized Draco had changed, would either accept him or leave him alone.  But he wasn’t sure about Draco’s former chums, people who were known antagonists.  Now here they were, about to put it to the test.  Draco could feel the tension radiating off Neville.  He was ready to pounce like the lion he was, and Draco felt his adrenaline kicking back in.  He decided he could do anything in the world, as long as Neville was next to him. 

Draco nodded slowly at his old friend, his tone even.  “Pansy.”

She folded her arms.  “You sure have a lot of nerve coming here.”

Draco huffed a laugh.  “Does that really surprise you?  I’ve always been pretty nervy.”

Anger flared in her eyes.  “What surprises me is how much of a backstabber you are.”

Draco’s bravado disintegrated into ire.  He took a step towards her.  “What the _hell_ do you mean by that?”

“You used to be loyal, Draco!  You used to be up front about who you liked and who you…”  She flicked a pointed glance at Neville, “… _despised_.  Everyone always knew where you stood.  And for a long time you stood with _me_.  We were friends, Draco.  But after the War you disappeared.  I sent you owl after owl and I never heard back from you.  And when you do finally show your face in public, do you come see me to let me know you’re okay?  No, you’re too busy cozying up to Aurors and Weasleys and Harry bleeding Potter.”

Draco was floored.  He hadn’t expected this.  “P..Pansy, look, I’ve changed a lot.  I didn’t think you’d want..”

She stabbed a finger at him.  “I know exactly what you thought, Draco Malfoy.  I know you too well.  You thought I’m the same person I was at school and that I’d scorn you and call you a blood traitor.  Well guess what?  You’re not the only one who can change.  You’re not the only one who was affected by the War.”

Draco cleared his throat uneasily.  “I know that very well.  I also know some people _don’t_ change.  I just didn’t want to take a chance…”

Pansy interrupted again.  “You didn’t want to take a chance on a friend.  Too afraid to get hurt, so you didn’t even try.”

Neville stepped up, then.  “Can you really blame him, Pansy?  You’ve been pretty awful to a lot of people over the years.  And I’m not forgetting how ready you were to offer up Harry to Voldemort.”

Pansy turned her heated eyes upon Neville.  “Yes, because I was _terrified_.  And not a day goes by that I don’t think of what that says about me.  That I was willing to sacrifice someone else to save myself.  I freely admit that I’m a coward, and I have to live with that.  But Draco is just as much a coward as I am.  He won’t face his old friends.  He won’t face _me_ , because what?  He’s worried I’ll be a heinous bitch to him?” 

Neville was about to reply, but Draco put his hand on his shoulder.  “She’s right, Neville.  When I got back from China, I just assumed all my old friends were still pure blood fanatics.  It didn’t even occur to me that anyone else might feel the same way as I do.”  He looked back at Pansy.  “So, have you changed, Pansy?  If you have, I’m genuinely sorry for the way I treated you.  But if you haven’t…you can piss off because I have no time for bigots anymore.” 

She gazed coldly at Draco for a long moment, and then smirked.  “For the record, I’m still a heinous bitch.”  The smirk softened, and so did her tone.  “But I no longer think muggleborns are beneath me.”  She folded her arms in defiance.

Draco’s lips twitched.  “Noted.”  There was a small silence, then he cleared his throat.  “Sooo…drinks tomorrow night?”

Pansy narrowed her eyes.  “Love to.  On one condition.  I want to see it.”  Her eyes flicked down to his arm.  Draco sighed.  He’d been wondering if he’d get this request, and surprisingly Pansy was the first person to make it this evening.  He’d been planning to say no to anyone who asked, but he decided to make an exception for her.  It was fitting that she would get to see.  Pansy had been there for him, comforted him after Blaise broke up with him because of the mark.  He rolled up his sleeve.  She walked over and stared at it a moment.  She reached out and ran her finger down the scar.  He shivered a bit.

Pansy leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Did you do this for Blaise?”

Draco exhaled.  “I had a few reasons, but yeah he was part of it.”

She turned her head slightly so that they were looking into each other’s eyes, foreheads almost touching.   “Then why didn’t you go see him once you’d done it?  For the same reason you wouldn’t see me?”

Draco lifted his chin.  “Blaise has always thought he was better than everyone else, even pure bloods.  I don’t have to see him to know that will _never_ change.”  He gave her a challenging look.  “Tell me I’m wrong.”  She pressed her lips together and shrugged her shoulders.  He sighed.  “Exactly.  I should have given you a chance, and I’m sorry for that.  But there was no point seeking him out.  We were over a long time ago.” 

She sighed and looked skyward.  “He’s here tonight, Draco.  We came together.  And he’s been in a very strange mood since the Quibbler came out this afternoon.”

Draco groaned inwardly.  Great.  That was just great.  He did _not_ want to see Blaise.  But he also didn’t want to be the coward that Pansy accused him of being.  If he runs into Blaise, so be it.  “Thanks for letting me know.  And thanks for giving me another chance on our friendship.”  She stared at him a moment, and then suddenly wrapped her arms around him in a hug.  “Oh wow.  You’re a hugger, now.  The War really did change you.”

“Shut up, you git.”  She pulled away.  “I expect an owl tomorrow with a time and place for our drinks.”  Ignoring Neville, she swept off towards the dance floor, doubtlessly looking for Blaise.  Draco wondered if she would keep Blaise away from him tonight, or if she would lead Draco’s ex straight to him. 


	9. The Room of Requirement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before the epilogue.

Draco felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked over at Neville.  He had his eyebrows raised, asking without words if he was okay.  Draco huffed out a weak laugh.  “On balance, I guess that went…well?  Pansy always had a way of putting me in my place.  I really should have kept in touch with her.  I’m sorry she was rude to you.”

Neville shook his head.  “She wasn’t rude, really.  Just…not cordial.”  Draco chuckled.  Neville squeezed Draco’s shoulder more tightly.  “Why don’t we dance some more.  If you’ve recovered enough from Charlie.”

Draco could hear they were playing a slow, romantic song, the kind that eschewed formal dance steps in favor of swaying back and forth in each other’s arms.  “I’d love to.” 

Neville guided him back out onto the dance floor, and enveloped Draco in his arms.  Draco put his head on Neville’s shoulder and breathed in his woodsy scent.  Dancing with Neville was a heavenly experience and Draco was already looking forward to the Crystal Ball.  Because Neville _will_ come to Ilvermorny to visit, even if Draco has to jinx him somehow from across the pond.  And next year, when Draco was back in England, he would make sure they go dancing frequently.  He was already sure he was coming back.  Had been sure for a while, to be honest.  Even if tonight had been a disaster, there was no way he was letting Neville go.  He would face the scorn of a hundred, thousand, million wizards to have Neville in his life. 

Draco felt Neville stiffen, and a drawling voice spoke next to them.  “Mind if I cut in?”  _Blaise_.  Draco lifted his head from Neville’s shoulders and came face to face with Blaise Zabini for the first time in years.  If it was possible, Blaise’s tux was even more chic and sophisticated than the one he’d worn to the Yule Ball.  So avant garde that it bordered on vulgar.  His expression was smug, as if he was sure that Draco would accept, but there was a glint in his eyes that said there would be hell to pay if he refused. 

Draco wasn’t sure how to respond because frankly he was confused.  Blaise didn’t chase after people.  They chased after _him_.  So what was he up to?  Draco tilted his head and regarded him coolly.  “What do you want, Blaise?”

“I want to know why you’re cheating on me.”

Draco blinked at him, even more confused.  “What the hell are you on about?  We broke up years ago.”

Blaise shook his head.  “I believe my exact words were, ‘I’ll let you come crawling back when you and your father wise up and renounce that maniac.’  So no, I didn’t actually dump you.  You had a task to do.  Now that you’ve finished it, we can pick up where we left off.”  Blaise’s eyes ran up and down Draco’s body to indicate he still remembered exactly where that was.

Draco felt suddenly cold, like someone had doused him in the Black Lake in the middle of winter.  Had Blaise always treated him like a possession?  He shook his head.  “You can’t really be serious.”

Blaise narrowed his eyes for a few moments, then gave him a condescending smile.  “Look, I can see that you might have thought we were over.  In that case I forgive your little dalliance.”  He cocked his head over at Neville.  “But we both know it’s me you really want.  I was the reason you got rid of your silly little mark.” Draco opened his mouth to refute, but Blaise shook his head. “No, don’t try to deny it.  Pansy told me all about it.  It’s what you do, Draco.  You jump through hoops trying to get my attention.  I know that’s why you’ve been hanging out with the Gryffindors.  Pansy didn’t understand, but it was obvious to me.  The public loves the War heroes, and by spending time with them you build your reputation back up.  You’re no longer seen as a stain on society, and I can finally consent to be seen with you.  So enough with this nonsense, Draco. Time to shine where you belong.”

As Draco stood there, completely speechless, Neville took a menacing step towards Blaise.  “Draco can decide for himself where he belongs.  You don’t get to order him around.”

Blaise snorted at him.  “Draco loves to be ordered around.  He gets off on it.  Turns a lovely shade of pink when I tell him he’s being a good boy.  Just like he’s doing now.” 

Draco was indeed very pink, flushed with the heat of his humiliation.  He wanted to say something scathing, but he felt paralyzed.  Next to him, Neville hissed.  “Not one more filthy word out of your mouth!  You will turn and walk away right now or I’ll make you regret it.”

Blaise scrutinized Neville for a moment, then started laughing.  Draco noticed to his horror that their little scene was drawing attention to them.  “I just realized why you’re defending his honor.  You haven’t had him yet, have you?  Poor, poor Neville Longbottom.  You really are a squib if you can’t even manage to get this one into bed.  It’s not that hard, you know.  A few shots of fire whiskey and he’ll do absolutely _anything_ you want.”

Draco wanted to die.  He wanted nothing more than to sink into oblivion.  He felt so dizzy that he couldn’t even react when Neville drew his wand and advanced on Blaise with a growl.  There were gasps of horror from onlookers, and Draco barely registered a voice thundering, “Expelliarmus!” 

Neville’s wand flew out of his grip and sailed several feet away into the waiting hand of Headmistress McGonagall.  Her expression was livid.  She stalked over to them, her gaze hot on Blaise.  “Mr. Zabini, I do not tolerate such ugly behavior at Hogwarts!”

Blaise glared daggers at her.  “How _dare_ you address me that way!  It was Longbottom that pulled out his wand!”

“And he would never do such a thing unless he was greatly provoked.  Judging by the look on Malfoy’s face, I’m only glad I I’m not privy to what you said to him.”

Blaise sneered.  “If you didn’t actually hear me, then you have no call to be…”

“I heard it.”  They turned and saw Pansy standing there, her face ashen.  “I heard every disgusting word.  I have never been more ashamed to call you a friend, and I won’t anymore after tonight.” 

McGonagall turned back to Blaise, her eyebrows raised.  “Well, then.  I will not have my guests be harassed in such a manner.  Mr. Zabini, leave now or I will have you escorted out.”

Draco saw white hot rage flicker over Blaise’s face for a moment, before he managed to rearrange it into cold contempt.  “You will be hearing from my mother, Headmistress.”  He swept away from them towards the entrance hall.  As soon as he had disappeared, Draco felt like he could breathe again.

McGonagall addressed Neville.  “You can have your wand back once I’m sure you’ve cooled off.  Right now I would suggest taking Mr. Malfoy someplace less crowded so he can recover from this unpleasantness.” 

Neville nodded wordlessly.  He gently cradled Draco’s elbow, ready to gently steer him away from the dance floor.  Pansy stepped in front of them.  “I’m so sorry, Draco.  I…I had no idea he would do that.  I thought from his reaction to the Quibbler that he was still in love with you.”

Draco turned and spit out, “He _never_ loved me!  I was a possession.  A plaything.”  His face crumpled. 

Pansy looked anguished.  Neville held up his hand.  “I need to get him out of here.”  He guided Draco past her and into the entrance hall.  He found a staircase and led Draco up several flights and then down a dimly lit corridor.  When they were far enough along that they could no longer hear the noises from the Ball, Neville stopped and pulled Draco into his arms. 

Draco clung to Neville.  He didn’t even know where to begin to process what just happened.  He’d never experienced anything more humiliating than this.  He’d dealt with more than his fair share of public embarrassment - his father seeing him responsible for Slytherin losing the quidditch match against Gryffindor 2nd year, a professor turning him into a ferret in front of Harry Potter and a crowded courtyard.  But this was different.  Tonight everyone got to watch as deeply personal memories were cheapened by the very person he’d shared them with.  Draco felt nausea rise up in his throat and he took deep breaths to calm himself.  The last thing he wanted was to vomit all over Neville.  He focused on the arms that were wrapped around him, and the moment they’d been sharing before Blaise intruded.  The fact that Neville was here with him despite Blaise’s foul words meant more to Draco than anything.  “Thank you,” he whispered.

Neville’s arms tightened, and he soothingly caressed Draco’s shoulder.  “For what?”

“For being here.  For being _you_.  You’re….everything he’s not.  I don’t know how I lucked out that you actually want to be with me.”

Draco felt Neville’s lips brush against his forehead.  “Draco, the only luck involved was running into each other that day at the pub.  Me wanting to be with you isn’t due to some cosmic fluke, it’s because you’re wonderful.

Draco didn’t feel wonderful, but some of the tension left him.  No matter what happened in his past or what might have been, he was here with Neville now.  He’d just been struck a humiliating blow, but he was still standing.  Although he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to the Ball anytime soon.  What he really wanted, what he _needed_ , was to go somewhere quiet where he could cuddle in Neville’s arms and no one would disturb them. 

Draco heard Neville’s soft gasp and worried for a moment that someone was coming down the hall.  “Draco, look.”  He turned his head and saw a doorway in front of them.  “That wasn’t there a moment ago.  It just _appeared_.”  Neville smiled.  “It must be the Room of Requirement.  I guess they made another one when they rebuilt the castle.”  Draco felt a moment of revulsion.  That room held terrible memories for him.  Or at least, the one that had been destroyed did.  He forced himself to remember it wasn’t the same room.  Neville stepped forward, his hand outstretched towards the door handle, “Only, I wasn’t thinking about needing anything.  Were you?”

Draco thought about his wish from moments ago, and felt a frisson of panic.  What if it were a bed?  The last thing he wanted was further humiliation.  “Neville, wait!  I…uh…let me look first.  I was thinking of something, but I’m worried the Room might have gotten the wrong idea.”  Neville regarded him, his expression part confusion and amusement.  He raised one eyebrow, but gestured for Draco to go ahead.  Draco sidled past Neville to the door, opened it only a crack, and peered inside.  What he saw made his jaw drop open.  “Merlin’s beard!  Neville, you have to see this!”

Draco opened the door wider and they both stepped into the room.  It was clearly meant to resemble a house common room, with overstuffed sofas and chairs and a huge fireplace that was lit and crackling merrily.  The decorations were in the colors of both Slytherin and Gryffindor.  Not all four colors together, that would have been a hideous combination.  Instead, some items were scarlet and silver while others were green and gold.  Neville walked over and stared up at a flag hung on one wall that featured a lion with a snake wrapped around its midsection.  Draco joined him and tried and failed to stifle a laugh at the lion’s features.  “That lion looks….besotted.”

Neville grinned at Draco. “It is besotted.  Just like me.”  He pulled Draco to him and lowered his head to touch their noses.  “So what exactly was it that you were thinking of that resulted in this?”

Draco’s cheeks reddened.  “I was thinking about how much I enjoyed having your arms around me, but I was worried we’d be interrupted.  I wanted privacy for us to…cuddle.” 

Neville smirked and cupped Draco’s cheek with his hand.  “You were worried the Room would think you meant more than that.” 

Draco’s blush deepened.  “I thought for sure it would be a bed strewn with rose petals.  I would have been mortified.  I mean…not that I don’t want that at some point.  It’s just…um...”

Neville slid his thumb over Draco’s lips to silence him.  “You’re not ready.  I understand.  Cuddling sounds lovely right about now and that fire is quite inviting.”  He took Draco’s hand and led him over to the sofa.  Neville sat down, reclining slightly, and pulled Draco down next to him and enfolded him in his arms.  “As usual, the Room gave you exactly what you needed.”

Draco snuggled even closer to Neville.  Yes, it was exactly what he needed.  Except… unbidden, the memory of Blaise’s taunts came back to him, his implications that Draco was denying Neville what he wanted.  “Neville, we haven’t really talked about sex, yet.  You say you understand I’m not ready, but I want you to know that it’s not because I don’t desire you.  I do, I really do.” 

Neville brought one hand up and began to thread his fingers through Draco’s hair.  “If you’re worried that Blaise’s shit-talking bothered me, don’t.  I know that you want me as much as I want you.  I certainly feel that whenever we kiss.  I’ve actually been relieved that you haven’t tried to take it further because I haven’t been ready yet, myself.  I wanted to wait until we were both sure that what we have is permanent.  If you go off to America and never come back…”  His voice broke a little, and he stopped to take a deep breath.  “It would be bad enough having kissed you.  Knowing I would never again experience the feel of your lips, the smell of your hair, the sound you make when I pull you close.  I can only imagine how much worse it would hurt if I also had the memory of you naked beneath me.”

Draco shuddered deeply at his words.  _Merlin_.  He blurted out in a rush, “Neville, I am coming back.  I’m not going to stay in America.  The day that term is done I’m coming back to you.  I’ll even have a portkey ready so I don’t waste another minute of our future together.”

The relieved expression on Neville’s face was priceless.  “You mean tonight didn’t ruin it for you?”

Draco shook his head.  “I already knew I wanted to come back, no matter what happened tonight.  Granted it turned out worse than I could have imagined, but it hasn’t shaken my resolve.  In fact, it’s only strengthened it.  I’ve made so many foolish choices in my life, and Blaise was one of the worst.  You keep telling me I’ve changed, that I’ve become a better man.  It must be true because falling in love with you is the smartest thing I’ve ever done, and I’m not about to mess that up.”

Neville stared at him in delight.  “Did you say _falling in love_?”

Draco gave him a smile, the one he knew Neville adored.  “Yes, of course, you daft wizard!  I’m in love with you, Neville.”

Neville huffed out a sob and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.  “Draco, I love you, too!  I love you so much!  Have been in love from the moment I saw your beautiful smile.”  He pulled back to stare at Draco.  “That one, right there.”  His own face split into a grin.  “This is it.  We’re going to be together.”  He placed his hand on Draco’s face and gently tilted his head so he could lean in for a kiss.

Draco felt dizzy.  Neville loved him!  He felt swept away by the emotions and the sensation of being in his arms, Neville practically devouring him with his mouth.  Draco was sure that if kisses were magical they’d be floating up by the ceiling.  When they finally parted, they were both a bit breathless.  Draco sighed as he remembered what Neville had said.  “We’re _going_ _to_ _be_ together, yes.  But we’ve almost a year before that will happen.”

Neville shook his head.  “Doesn’t matter.  The important thing is that you’re coming back to me.  And I get to keep you.”  He nuzzled Draco’s hair with his nose.  “By then I won’t be an Auror anymore.  Don’t know what I’ll be, but I’ll have you and my herbology research.”  He gave a contented sigh.  “I’ve never been happier than I am right now at this moment.”  

Draco smiled into his shoulder, but wondered if that were really true.  He didn’t doubt that Neville loved him, but he found it hard to believe that he loved him more than he had loved Fred.  Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like Draco had to compete with Fred.  If he was only second-best in Neville’s heart, Draco could live with that. 

“Draco?  I have a huge favor to ask of you.”  Neville bit his lip.  “I’ve never asked this of anyone before, but it’s never been this important.”  He looked down into Draco’s eyes.  “Before you go off to America, would you come with me to visit my parents?”  Draco was momentarily stunned into speechlessness.  “I’ve already told them about you, but I really want them to meet you.  I want them to see how happy we are together.”

“Neville, I…yes, of course.  I’d love to.  You say you’ve never asked anyone before?  Not even…not even Fred?”

Neville shook his head.  “I’ve always been very protective of my parents, with their fragile state.  I knew that I would only bring someone to meet them if I had that feeling of wanting to spend the rest of my life with him.  I loved Fred, and we were pretty serious.  But we were still kids, you know?  We weren’t even close to thinking about that stuff.”

Draco gave him a dazed look.  “Are you a legilimens?”

Neville’s brow quirked and he gave a confused laugh.  “Uh…no?”

Draco shook his head.  “It’s just, when you told me you’ve never been happier, I couldn’t bring myself to believe that it was true.  I always assumed Fred was the love of your life, and so surely your happiest moments had been with him.”  He cleared his throat.  “As I was thinking that, you brought up meeting your parents.”

Neville kissed Draco’s forehead.  “I didn’t read your mind, that was just a coincidence.  I’m glad of it, though.  I hate that even for a moment you believed you’re only second best in my heart.  Look, I knew Fred for years and was perfectly content to live in the moment with him.  It was only when he died that I mourned the loss of his future.  Now you, on the other hand…I’ve been with you only weeks, and all I can think about is us together forever.  Honestly it scares me a bit, how badly I want that.  I have no control over whether it happens. I mean, if I’m _really_ honest, I’m afraid it still might not happen.”

Draco frowned.  “I’ve already said I’ll come back to you, Neville.”

Neville shook his head.  “You don’t know that for sure, Draco.  You’re not the only who’s insecure.  Maybe you only think I’m this great guy because any decent sort of fellow would compare well to Blaise.  How do I know that you won’t meet someone even better than me in America?”

Draco gave him an incredulous look.  “Someone better than the Hero of Hogwarts?”  Neville rolled his eyes.  “Okay, okay.  I suppose it’s _possible_ that there’s someone out there more fabulous than you.  But that guy’s straight out of luck with me, because I’m taken.”

Neville pulled Draco in for a heated kiss.  He whispered, “Do you want to be?” Draco raised one eyebrow, questioningly.  Neville smirked.  “Taken?”

Draco flushed scarlet.  He took a moment to recover his breath.  “I…I do, actually.  But I like your idea of waiting till I get back.  I think I do.  It’s a long time to wait, but…  I mean, it’s true what you said about the distance being harder if we know what we’re missing.”  He groaned.  “Bloody hell, this stupid apprenticeship.”

Neville laughed.  “It will go by quickly, my love.  It’ll be something to look forward to.”

Draco exhaled as he stared into the fireplace.  “Something to look forward to.  That’s a new concept for me.  My whole life I never really thought beyond the immediate future.  All my focus was on trying to live up to my father’s expectations and behaving the way everyone took for granted that I should as a pure blood, as a Malfoy, as a Slytherin.”  Draco paused for a moment, mesmerized by the undulating flames.  “There were times I wondered if I was sorted into the right house.  I was constantly screwing up, earning my father’s ire.  I was secretly worried that the only reason I got in was because I was a Malfoy and a Black.  Do you know when it was that I finally accepted I was a true Slytherin?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Neville surprised him by answering quietly, “After you got rid of the dark mark.”

Draco looked at him in amazement.  “Yes!  Did I already tell you that?”

Neville shook his head.  “No.  It’s just that it was the most Slytherin thing you’ve ever done.”  Draco chuckled and they fell into silence for a moment, contemplating the fire. 

Draco felt Neville lightly rub his nose against the back of his head, his breath causing goosebumps to prickle his scalp.  “It’s interesting what you say about the expectations people had of you, the son of a death eater.  I mean, from what I saw at Hogwarts, you were on track to becoming just like your father.  What if you _had_ become like him, really bought into Voldemort’s pure blood mania?  I don’t think you would have needed Snape to carry out his command.”

Draco thought about what Dumbledore told him up on the Tower, about his heart not being in it.  Draco whispered, “If I had truly been his follower, I suppose I’d have been fighting alongside the Dark Lord at the Battle of Hogwarts.  I’d probably be dead along with him and half the death eaters.”

Neville nodded grimly.  “Or trying to keep his legacy going, like the other half.”

Draco understood the implications.  “I’d have a bounty on me.  My face would be on the Auror Watch Board.” 

He felt Neville shudder at the idea of having to hunt Draco down.  “Instead of all that, you have embodied the best of the Slytherin qualities.  Like your cousin, Regulus Black.  Like Professor Snape.”

Draco grinned.  “Did it pain you to say that about Snape?”

Neville gave him a light pinch on his arm.  “Of course not, you git.  Ever since Harry told me the truth about him, Severus Snape has served as a reminder never to judge a book by its cover.  In fact, I was thinking of him when I was deciding whether to ask you out.”

Draco raised his eyebrows.  “Interesting.  It seems that Snape continues to look out for me even after his death.  I have much to thank him for.”

“I think he would probably say that the best way to thank him is by doing well in your apprenticeship.”

Draco thought about that for a moment, then smiled and sat up, feeling a buzz of anticipation.  “What do you think of this as my first words to my students…”  He narrowed his eyes broodingly and his voice deepened into a sonorous tone.  “I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses.”

Neville shuddered in delight.  “Bloody hell, Draco.  If you’d been my professor, Potions class would have been a much different experience.  Those kids are going to be hanging on your every word, I guarantee it.”  Draco blushed. 

There was a loud CRACK! and Kreacher appeared before them.  He bowed deeply.  “Begging your pardon Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Longbottom, but the ball is coming to a close soon and the Headmistress is not wanting anyone in the castle overnight that does not have permission.”

Draco nodded at the elf.  “Thank you for letting us know, Kreacher.  We’ll leave shortly.  It’s good to see you again.”

Kreacher grimaced in what he supposed was an attempt at a smile.  “And you as well, Mr. Malfoy.  Kreacher is always happy to see members of the Black family.  Kreacher hopes that the rumors are not true?  About you leaving us and going to America?”

Draco smiled sadly.  “They are true, I’m afraid.  But only for a year.  I will be coming back.  And who knows, I might even end up here at Hogwarts.”

Kreacher’s grimace strained even harder to appear like a smile.  “Kreacher would like that very much, Mr. Malfoy.”  When they met at Grimmauld Place a week ago, the elf had told Draco that he was working in the Hogwarts kitchen now, at Harry Potter’s suggestion, since the Black residence was likely to stay empty indefinitely.

With another loud CRACK! Kreacher disappeared.  Draco and Neville untangled their limbs and stood up.  Neville looked around.  “Too bad we have to leave this room.”  Draco nodded his agreement, his eyes fixed again on the besotted lion and snake. 

Draco held out his hand.  “Let’s go get your wand and head back to the Three Broomsticks.”

Neville took his hand.  “It’ll be crowded in the pub, with folks coming out of the ball.  We can join them or go up to the rooms for more privacy, it’s up to you.”

Draco thought this over.  “I think I might only want to join them if the Weasleys are there.  Don’t _ever_ tell them I said this, but there’s something about them that makes me feel relaxed and welcome.  They’re very grounding.”

Neville wisely refrained from teasing him about this.  Instead, he grinned as they walked out of the Room of Requirement.  “I can’t wait to brag to them that you’ve agreed to come home after the school year.  You’re mine forever, Draco Malfoy, and I want everyone to know it.”


	10. It also ends with a smile

Neville paced up and down his sitting room.  Assuming he’d calculated the time difference accurately, Draco should be appearing via portkey in the next ten minutes.  It was the same portkey Draco had used to go back and forth to the village near Ilvermorny Castle.  The few times Neville had gone to visit Draco, he’d traveled the same way.

Ten minutes, ten minutes.  What was ten minutes compared to ten months?  The school year had _not_ gone by as quickly as Neville had assured Draco it would.  The months crawled and Neville drove his friends and family crazy with his moaning.  Gran had started coming up with excuses not to invite Neville to Sunday dinners.  Harry and Ron had actually looked slightly relieved when Neville resigned his Auror commission for good. Probably because they would no longer have to put up with his misery on a daily basis.

The visits to Ilvermorny were bittersweet - the joy of being reunited followed by the pain of saying goodbye once again.  The first time he visited, after more than three agonizing months apart, was the occasion of the Crystal Ball.  It was a truly lovely memory, and much less fraught than the Restoration Ball.  They were able to spend the evening dancing in each other’s arms without any fear of drama.  Well, there’d been drama, but only the typical kind produced by teenage hormones.  In between bouts of dancing, Draco had chaperoning duties.  Neville couldn’t help but notice that the lion’s share of his attention was on Cassie and her date.  

The longest Neville spent with Draco during the year was when he came back home for the week of Christmas.  Draco got to meet some of Neville’s extended family, and Neville spent some time with the Malfoys.  Both meetings were every bit as awkward as they’d expected, but everyone survived and there’d been no hexing, so they called it a win.  On Christmas Eve, Draco gave Neville an herbology field research kit.  Neville loved it and used it a couple months later when he went on an herbology expedition.  Neville gave Draco a tie pin and cufflinks shaped like tiny serpents, from a famous muggle designer called Montblanc.  He got the idea from Harry, who had what he called a “pen” in the same serpent theme, which he used instead of a quill at the Ministry.  Anytime anyone looked askance at it, he would quip that it’s the perfect accessory for a parselmouth. 

Draco had been stunned and quite pleased when Neville surprised him on St. Valentine’s Day.  He brought with him a bleeding heart plant, which was popular among muggles and had no magical properties.  Draco loved it.  The herbology professor was fascinated by it, and also quite taken with Neville’s knowledge of plants.  He tried to monopolize Neville’s time during the Valentine banquet, but a furious Draco squashed a pink frosted cupcake onto his nose and dragged Neville away to his room.  The students were delighted to witness this drama amongst the adults, but the headmaster was not similarly amused.  Draco received a reprimand for his unbecoming actions.

The last time they saw each other was during the Easter break.  Neville joined Draco in New York City where Draco had agreed to participate in a Dark Arts lecture series hosted by the DADA professor.  Neville was convinced that Professor Magnus was part Veela.  He was older by 20 years, but he was strikingly handsome, oozed sophistication and charm, and hinted of dangerous escapades (somewhat reminiscent of Gilderoy Lockhart, except the exploits were presumably real).  Neville was also convinced that Magnus was after Draco.  At the Crystal Ball, he looked like he wanted to eat Draco alive, and asked him to dance way too many times for Neville’s comfort. 

Draco insisted that Magnus was only interested in his first hand experiences with the dark arts.  He was always asking Draco to participate in his class when he had free time away from Potions, and had begged him over and over to do the Dark Arts lecture series in Manhattan.  Draco only finally said yes because Neville agreed to meet him there so they could spend time together in the famous American city.  Neville was pretty sure that Magnus had been hoping to get Draco alone, judging by his expression when Neville walked into the auditorium that first day. 

The next couple of days continued to be tense as Magnus came up with numerous ways to occupy Draco so he couldn’t go sight-seeing with Neville.  Lectures, Q&A panels, meet and greets, it went on.  When they finally got a dinner alone, Draco was eager to hear details about Neville’s recent research expedition to a remote magical forest in Ireland that hadn’t been catalogued in two centuries.  Neville began to relax as he told Draco everything that he hadn’t been able to fit in his letters.  After awhile he noticed that Draco seemed increasingly annoyed whenever he mentioned his research partner, Benny Chapman.  Chapman was a herbologist with incredible credentials.  In hindsight, Neville acknowledged to himself that perhaps he gushed about Chapman a little too much, but it was strictly admiration for a colleague and Draco’s jealousy was completely unjustified.  Neville was eventually able to reassure Draco, and after dinner they headed off to a drinks reception that Magnus insisted Draco attend. 

Neville watched Magnus practically drape himself over Draco as he introduced him around to all his colleagues.  At one point when Neville came back from refreshing his drink, the air was thick with some sort of hypnotic spell and Draco’s behavior was more flirty than usual.  He knew then for sure that Magnus had Veela in him and he was putting it to use.  Usually this ability was dormant in males, but it wasn’t unheard of.  It didn’t surprise him at all that someone who studies Dark Arts would have figured out how to harness those powers.   When the reception was over, Draco escorted Neville back to his room.  As soon as they got inside, Draco pounced on Neville and began trying to remove his clothing.  Neville realized Draco was affected by the Veela magic.  He gently pushed Draco away and firmly told him that their first time was not going to be when he was under the influence.  Draco did not react well to this.  He shared with Neville at a later date that the comment triggered memories of what Blaise had said at the Restoration Ball, and that was why he went off the deep end.  They had a long, nasty fight heavily fueled by their insecurities, in which Magnus and Chapman were brought up _a lot_. 

Neville began to wonder if they should have consummated their relationship ages ago, because Draco confessed angrily that he was very sexually frustrated and wasn’t sure that Neville really wanted him.  Neville knew he couldn’t do anything about it _now_ , because they’d be coming together for all the wrong reasons.  He decided in the heat of the moment that it would be best to remove himself before he gave in to temptation.  He packed up his things with a flick of his wand and grasped the portkey back to his flat in London.  He felt immediate regret as he thought of the hurt look on Draco’s face as he left.  He sent Squeak off with an apology for his abrupt and inconsiderate departure, admitting that he’d been too hacked off about Magnus to think clearly.  He was unable to sleep after that, as he kept thinking about how Magnus may try to take advantage of the situation now that Neville was gone.  He knew Draco wouldn’t cheat on him, but he was afraid Magnus would convince him to break up with Neville. 

When Neville finally got Draco’s response, it was in the form of a howler.  Draco was furious that Neville left him, and called him stupid for thinking he was even remotely interested in an old fossil like Magnus and inferred that maybe Neville was the one addled by the professor’s charms.  The howler was soon followed up by a letter that started with an apology for his behavior, and the rest was filled with declarations of love so passionate that for days afterward Neville had literal sparks flying off him and he wasn’t able to go near any plants lest they immediately wilt under the heat.  Neville retaliated with a letter that was so steamy, Squeak refused to deliver it and he was forced to send it by portkey.  Draco had to sit in the far corner of the Potions classroom for a solid week because the sparks were wreaking havoc with brew times.

Neville fidgeted with his wand and tried turning his thoughts away from the frustrating ten months they’d just endured and concentrate instead on the future.  The plan was for Draco to spend a week catching up with his parents and friends, and then they would be headed to the magical depths of the Amazon rain forest for a two-month research expedition.  While Draco was at Ilvermorny, he spent much of his free time reading up on Professor Sprout’s research into endangered plants.  He shared with Professor Copple how a number of them were used in potions, and they brainstormed what could be done if herbologists were unsuccessful in preventing extinction.  One possibility would be to find alternatives that wouldn’t alter the composition of the potions too greatly.  The plan for the trip to the Amazon was twofold – Neville would spend his time cataloguing new plant life, and Draco would be experimenting with substitute potion ingredients.   Cassie, having just completed her final year at Ilvermorny, was coming along as their assistant.  When school starts again in the fall, she’ll be replacing Draco as Professor Copple’s apprentice, and Draco and Neville are going on to Hogwarts to be apprentices to Professors Slughorn and Sprout. 

It was a good plan and Neville was quite excited about the trip, even though he was nervous about being so far away from his parents for so long.  His Gran kept assuring him that they would be fine.   They were actually doing very well.  Neville’s mum no longer gave him gum wrappers.  Instead, he would give her pictures of him and Draco, and she put them in an album which she would proudly show him during their visits. Her favorite was one of them taken at the Crystal Ball, a light shining in her eyes as she watched the two figures swirl around the dance floor.  His father would nod contentedly at Neville whenever he shared stories about Draco or about the changes he’d been making to his career.  Gran said that they could feel his happiness, which meant more to them than anything.  Lately it had started him thinking about what it might be like to have a child of his own.   Such a possibility was years down the road, he wanted Draco to himself for a long time.  He was content in simply knowing that it _was_ a possibility, in light of the horribly awkward discussion with Arthur Weasley last year.  They could even have multiple children, one with Longbottom genes and one with Malfoy genes.  Lucius would absolutely love that, though Neville could imagine his reaction to learning this came about from muggle technology that they learned about from a Weasley.

Neville went over to the window and gazed out at the Londoners bustling back and forth, trying to pick out which were muggles and which were wizards.  He felt a sudden whoosh of air behind him.  He looked over his shoulder and there was Draco, perched on his trunk with his legs crossed, effecting an expression of posh boredom.  Neville wasn’t fooled.  He held out his hand, which Draco took, and then yanked him up so hard that Draco stumbled into his arms.  Draco’s feigned nonchalance melted into a happy laugh.  “Hello, love,” he whispered as he grasped the back of Neville’s neck and pulled him into a kiss, which went on for a long time. 

When they finally broke apart due to lack of oxygen, Neville breathed, “Welcome home, Draco.”

Draco rested his head on Neville’s shoulder.  “Yes, this is my home now.  For good.  I’m never leaving you again, Neville.”

Neville’s arms tightened, and they held onto each other for a few minutes.  Neville finally cleared his throat.  “You hungry?”

Draco lifted his head and buried his nose in Neville’s neck, inhaling deeply.  In a sultry voice, he said, “Starved.”

Neville’s lips curved, and his beard only slightly covered his blush.  “Well, I have just the thing.”  He led Draco down the hallway and opened a door at the far end.  Draco peered inside and saw that it was Neville’s bedroom.  The bed was strewn with white rose petals.  Neville rumbled into his ear, “It’s no Room of Requirement, but I hope I was able to read your mind.”

“It’s exactly what I need,” Draco drawled, and pulled him into the room.

Much later as they were falling asleep, Neville took note of the smile on his lover’s face (which appeared to be a permanent fixture) and he finally felt confident enough to declare his courtship of Draco Malfoy a resounding success. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that this did not have a beta or brit-pick. Hopefully it was still readable.


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